


The Life Of A Ghost: Thief Of Time

by MysticAttack



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Anxiety, Child Abuse, Child Death, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Friends, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Enemies, Gen, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Marriage Proposal, Multi, Murder, Other, Physical Abuse, Politics, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Depression, Romance, Romance mod, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Torture, Victim Blaming, Violence, Voyeurism, noncanon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-08 22:26:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 58,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12874329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticAttack/pseuds/MysticAttack
Summary: The aristocratic status in Cyrodiil holds a large amount of weight, especially after the Gold Concordat was signed in E4 Year 175. Nowadays you are either well off or nothing more than one to grovel at the boots of the Aldmeri Dominion. Karliah Hearthfire is well off, thankfully. The youngest daughter of a Great War hero, and living in luxury in Leyawiin. A city far south in Cyrodiil, and as of late -the newest home for follower's of the Gray Fox who are now calling themselves The Watchers. But being a High-Born girl cannot protect you from the evil out in the world, especially when you are one who wears your title like a set of armour.(~A very shitty explanation~)`All rights to our lord and savior: Bethesda~~!





	1. Bounded

**Author's Note:**

> I really fucked up the storyline okay? Literally everything you know about Skyrim? Fuck it. It stops here in this fanfiction, come at me Todd Howard. Lore stays in place except most of the goddamn storyline of the Thieves Guild in Skyrim. I wrote this before I played Oblivion so the town of Leyawiin is off in presentation and names of the Palace and a whole lot of shit. Just try not to think too much about the shit you know about Elder Scrolls. As I said this is a blend of an original work and a Elder Scrolls fanfiction. If I tried to explain what the fuck I'm talking about then I would never stop typing. Enjoy this horrid sadness fam~
> 
> I wrote this chapter years ago and I dislike it, but I know in order to post the future chapters this one has to as well. It's really cringy, I'm sorry.

The two of them could make out the heavy weight of iron boots thundering down the hall towards the door, her heart sped up in wild panic as she gazed over; wide eyed at the honey-eyed boy that lounge beside the Breton on her queen sized four-poster. Karliah Jeane Hearthfire sprang up in a moment's notice, her flowing elegant skirt following behind her. "My father is home!" She whispered in a frantic manner, her slim fingers wrapping around his wrist to pull him to his feet. "You have to go, now Bishop!" 

This outcome should have been conspicuous to the two of them, it was risky of them to linger so late into the night. She dragged the Nordic boy to her window, shoving the mirrored shudders open to reveal a clear and quiet night that would surely be cut short if her father were to catch Bishop in her chambers. She pestered him to hasten which drove him to blindly stick a leg out and hop over the sill and to land on the soft ground outside, thankfully her room was on the first floor; making getaways very save and secure. The footsteps grew closer and closer, time seemed to slow; which only made the young girl's heart pound heavily beneath her ribcage. "We should see each other once the sun rises." He said, a fluttery smile planted on his lips when he looked at her through the opening -and for a boy who was more than intimidated by her father; he seemed to be taking is sweet time with honeyed words. "The Imperial City is ahead of us, Karliah."

"Of course." She stated in a rushed manner, eyes darting over her shoulder with anticipation. "B-but this is not the time to be speaking about this! Goodbye!" Her words fortuitously came out in a curt manner as she slammed the doors on him, longing to be able to apologize. Yet her father had opened the door only moments later. The Noble girl stepped in front of her bookshelf and pretended as if she was searching for a novel to read.

"Karliah." Hogvir; her father spoke, pressing the door open to shuffle through. Something that she distanced and attempted to look disinterested in; especially his future words. The way he said her name sounded as if his tone was dripping with exasperation, "I asked a simple task though it was not done; go to the market before any personal activities." He ordered, a scowl on his lips. She could only guess that something had gone wrong at the Sunglow Palace, being the Hand of the king; you had responsibilities - just as the Jarl himself.

"I can go once the sun rises." Karliah answered briefly, though her words sounded more like a question than a statement. She hoped that he wouldn't argue, knowing that her older sister was resting in the other room; and the sibling was not pleasant when woken up early. Glancing away from the cover of the book she was pretending to inspect; she glared his way, "It's dark out and Blackwood is dangerous. I'm sure that Edna would be willing to do so." She stated, setting the piece of literature back on the shelf.  

But her father didn't seem joyed with her attempt at compromising. With a brief inhale from his nose; he repeated a low daring tone, "go to the market and get what we have written down or you're not getting your bow lessons."

At the menace; she bit the inside of her cheek nervously, Karliah had unremembered to inform her father that her "boyfriend" she called it: Bishop had been giving her lessons for a few years in marksmen training. Though she would never get around to telling the truth, and it was better not to agitate him. She began to bare the same expression of annoyance as her father.

"Why don't you get our housecarl to do it?" She grumbled bitterly, it was something odd to get worked up about. Hell, the young woman wasn't exactly positive about what exactly had gotten on her nerves. But without another word; with the flick of her wrist - she shooed the man out. Muttering that if she was indeed to leave the Hearthfire Manor, then she needed to change her attire. Thrusting the door closed with a soft huff. 

And with that; she changed her light rose colored dress to a thin black tunic that looked casual enough but had been shipped from the lands of Morrowind and was of a very specific ash grown cotton unavailable in Cyrodiil, topping it off by slipping into a pair of trousers she found nicely folded in the corner. Pushing open her door, and turning left down the hall. She found herself standing in the living room. Her father sat peacefully in one of the many chairs around their dining table as their housecarl Edna; a strong Imperial woman who could give most of the guards on patrol a run for their coin - aided him in unclasping his heavy steel armor from biting into his shoulder. Karliah fumbled with her hands for a brief moment before shaking her head. "If I die it's your fault." She muttered, a bit dramatic for her taste but she was still bitter about how Edna and Hogvir had shown up unannounced and cut her visit with Bishop; short. She made a move for the door but the soft sound of her father letting a weak chuckle tumble from his lips make her halt.

"Please do not exasperate the situation, the shops are nearly ready for closing. If you feel insecure then you can take my dagger." He spoke, head turning to the side weakly as his hands searched his person. He proved unsuccessful until the Imperial woman currently removing his breastplate moved her hands from his broad chest to pull the sheathed weapon from his belt. The man pursued his lips before softly sputtering out a quick "thank you" to the woman. 

Edna took it upon herself to hand the dagger to the young woman. It was a carved sliver blade with a thick handle, most likely used for dirty work such as hunting or basic protection. She hesitated briefly before grabbing the weapon from Edna's grip. Her one hand freeing the piece of armor from his body as he began to speak, "don't forget leeks." Hogvir called out as she spun on her heel to head for the front door, "your sister has been pestering me about them."

"Give it a rest." She retorted, hoping for the last word before shutting the thick wooden door behind her.

* * *

"Lady Hearthfire, I pardon -but can I speak with you?"

Karliah stopped in her tracks at the familiar sounding voice, letting go of an exasperated sigh. Straightening her form and turning around like the Noble girl she was, "what do you need Edna?" She asked gently, a soft but fake smile imprinted on her lips. Hoping that her sudden change of attitude would have the woman forget her childish actions between her and her father. 

The Imperial Housecarl cleared her throat, shutting the oak door behind her so the Nordic man inside could hear nothing but muffled tones. "Your father had a rough day at the Sunglow Palace, and he surely isn't thinking clearly. I would gladly assist you to the market and help you find the things needed." She said, brushing her short brown hair from her shaped face.

"You have already stayed a hour past your usual shift, not to mention you were just in the middle of assisting my father. I'm fine, I can promise you that." She said, her amthyest eyes bright as she smiled. "As you saw; I'm armed as well, don't fret."

The housecarl crossed her arms with a sigh, "your father should let me show you how to use a sword. This land is sworming with thieves, bandits, trolls, and divines known  
what else these days. If you wait just a moment then I can go get one of the soldiers guarding the gates to be of service."

Karliah let go of a faint laugh, shaking her at the helpful Imperial. "I said I was fine, I'll see you at sunrise." She waved to the woman, starting for the market that was a block or two away. Her grin denigrating from her features.

She reluctantly pulled herself onward, interactions with her family periodically were dreadful and tiring to her (though not so much the encounter that was just had) considering the one she had broke apart after her mother passed away on the day she waso born, along with her father that had began to lack as a parent as the years dragged on, Karliah long ago had came to the realization that what she wanted was a complete kin.

Pathetic and stubborn tears began to leak from her eyes as she quickly moved down the gravel road, desperately trying to wipe the tears off her lashes. What a stupid reason to cry, the youngest daughter in one of the richest families in Cyrodiil tearing up over a simple errand? How spoiled could one be to whine about having to go to the market during nightfall?

She continued to roam, looking around at what the Cyrodilian view had to offer as she kicked at the dirt road until she finally approached the marketplace, the wide open space seemed abandoned due to the final hours of the day. The many stalls empty of merchants and items alike in case a thief were to come across trinkets left behind. The noble girl smiled softly as she noticed a lone Dumner man packing up his shop for the day in silence. At hearing the scrape of her slippers on the path; he perked up, red eyes meeting hers.

"A bit late for a young woman like yourself to be wondering Blackwood at night, aye?" The elf jested softly with a kind smiled  as she strolled into the torchlight the Dumner was holding in one hand as he shut the crate underneath the stall.

"I don't suppose you are still selling are you?" She sighed, unable to pinpoint a quirky respond to his words. She twirled the golden septims in her hand, biting the inside of her lip, she supposed her father had lost track of the time; the market closed up at eight.

The Dark Elf shook his head, the short white pony tail on top of his oval-shaped head shook with him. "I just closed up shop ten minutes ago." He replied sounding more disappointed than his expression would allow.

She figured, already rehearsing the sardonic comment she would open with her father once she arrived back at their residence empty-handed. "Oh." She said, her voice hoarse; her lack of better word made the interaction more delicate than she intended, Karliah cleared her throat. "Well I was hoping to buy some of your produce, but I see. I'll try tomorrow and-"

"Nonsense girl!" He interrupted, almost as if he was delighted to help her. She was used to selfishness in the city of Blackwood, considering that the town was known for holding the most successful Thieves Guild in Tamriel; The Watchers, even their name held an echo. Holding some of the most dangerous men and women the planet Nirn had to offer. She supposed that it surprised her of the lack or wariness the man held. "You look tired. I won't waste you're energy, I have enough for the coin you can offer." He smiled wider, showing his golden hued teeth.

"Oh." Karliah muttered pleasantly, head perking up at the realization that this blasted trip wasn't just a waste of breath. "Do you have leek?" She questioned, forcing a smile. As Hogvir Hearthfire's youngest daughter; she needed to be a charismatic woman. But now was not the time of day to charm some merchant, nor was she in a jolly enough mood.

"Yes." He replied, then began to rummage around behind the stall before peeking out and handing Karliah a beige colored sack, "here you are."

"Thank you." She said as she set a small coin purse on the counter in front of him, untying the end of the sack to check how many leeks were there. Karliah glanced up with a pleased smile as he rounded the stand to gather the golden coins before turning to face her.

"It is my pleasure." His ruby red eyes finally seemed to adjust to the torchlight as the orange glare illuminated her appearance, his pale lips seemed to part in a sudden surprise. "I . . . Would you like me to walk you back to you're home Lady Hearthfire?" The dumner asked suddenly.

And hearing the sound of her last name made her grin falter, she was hoping that the darkness around them would hide her features enough for the elf to not realize who she was. But unsurprisingly, luck was not on her side. Not only was she muttering shyly like a peasant girl when she was indeed the Jarl's God Daughter; she blatantly made herself look out of place.

She could almost hear Edna's voice in the back of her head to oblige his actions, that Blackwood was a place full of crime and the scum who commit it. But for the noble girl herself; it didn't matter to her if he walk her back or not. With the slight shrug of her shoulders; she agreed politely, all she wanted was to get home and camp back in her quarters with a nice book.

As they walked the dirt trail; it seemed like every time Karliah took a step forward, the feeling of being scrutinized grew more intense, but at the very least she wasn't alone as she was before, but with the sudden dissatisfying feeling; she began to long for the security she would have had if she agreed to have the Hearthfire housecarl: Edna, escort her. She must not have been in her right mind to deny Edna of her services; as she had never traveled the city alone at nightfall.

"What's wrong milady? You're tense" The Dumner pointed out with a grin, something that meant nothing to him but the kind gesture seemed to concern the Noble beside him.

"I'm fine." Karliah stated flatly, adjusting the way she carried herself so she no longer shied; head held high as she cleared her throat. The night was very still and dim, not even a spec of dust was out of place; nor were there any sudden outbursts. She was just being paranoid! No one would try to hurt her in Jarl Jelben the third's city unless they had some sort of death wish, the Dumner looked over at her once more.

"You are Karliah, correct?" He questioned, she nodded softly. 

"Your father's a good man." The Dumner sounded as if he truly believed his words. Though most of the individuals living inside Blackwood did believe so. Karliah only let a soft hum escape her lips. Folding her hands in front of her person.

"As well, many people do say that-" he stopped speaking and sputtered. Karliah's slippers caused her to skid to a sudden halt before she spun around to see the middle-aged man choking on his own blood as a rogue man swiftly drag a dagger across his throat, she clasped her hands over her mouth as her eyes widened in panic. A shriek escaped her before she stumbled back.

He shoved the merchant to the dirt -the dark elf's body portrayed as a drag doll as he twisted around on his own two feet. Tangling and slumping to the soil, blood already clotting from the large gash in his neck. Before Karliah could even think correctly to sprint away from the scene, the man's threatening tone interrupted the silence. "If you move I'll make this night a lot more painful then it has to be!" He menaced bitterly, eyes boring into her as he moved to drag the Dumner man's body over to a shadowy corner by one of the wooden stalls.

Out of sheer fear and panic, Karliah found herself obeying. Standing eerily still and at the same time she shook under her own weight. Her breathing began to drag from her quick and shallow inhales, feeling oddly dizzy as she dropped the sack of food, which led it to roll out of the bag.

Was it a thief? Possibly even a member of the widely feared Watchers? For all she knew, the man was here to rob her all everything she currently had on her person. From the silver clip she had in her scarlet hair - all the way to her gold lined slippers from Valenwood. Though the thought made her head spin more than it currently was, if she knew anything it was that her father once told her that the Watchers; like every other thieves guild scattered around Tamriel - they refused to operate like the Dark Brotherhood. And killing was never a thing they preferred to do. Nor bold robbery of a young girl in the middle of the night, they valued stealth and the honor of not getting caught.

This was no member of the Watchers, and it only made the young woman tremble.

She had to fight back, that was the only reasonable action she could come up with on the spot. Or at least get away and get home as quick as possible without getting killed just as the poor Dumner man had. She reached around to her waist and hid the dagger her father had given her; behind her back as thick tears began to welled up in her lilac eyes, filling to the brim and threatening to fall.

"I'm just a girl." She whispered harshly, the Nordic man straightened his back and strode over to her with a sneer gnarling his upper lip, in a bold manner; he grabbed her chin with dirty fingers along with a force that made her clench the dagger so hard her knuckles began to ache. Not wasting another precious second; she swung at the man's chest. Maybe too quickly, but without missing a beat - she dropped her only source of protection and ran, ran as fast as she could away from the man and towards the Hearthfire residence where it was safe and sound (though still a ways away), she felt her heartbeat pulsing in her throat. Karliah didn't even know if she harmed the man, all she knew was that she needed to get out of there.

This wasn't truly happening was it? Surely it was all a dream, a horrific nightmare that was so savage it wasn't even close to what reality was capable of. But this felt all too real, the tears in her eyes, her heart slamming against her ribcage, and the ache of her feet as she ran.

But her moment her freedom; the last bit of freedom she would have for a long time -crumbled in her grip. She felt a rough hand tangle itself in her hair, the feeling was painful as he tightened his grip on her curls. Pulling her back and making her cry out, feeling as if he had ripped globs of her red hair out of her scalp. She was yanked back to his chest, pinning her arms to her side and sweeping the girl off her feet, the fall didn't feel any better. Bruising her cheekbone, scraping her knee and surely getting dirt in her eyes and mouth.

She was caught like a mouse in a trap.

With wide eyes; Karliah twisted, whimpered, cried, all while trying to escape his tight grip. The seconds dragged on and on, her throat felt like it was boiling - as did her eyes, body breaking out into a cold sweat. When the man noticed that she wasn't going give up anytime soon -he once again grabbed her thick red locks and pressed her face deeper into the dirt below.

Her heavy breathing that was a weak attempt to calm her down was just filling her with a undesirable feeling of dizziness, the dirt particles getting sucked into her mouth with every large gasp; only causing her to cough. She felt him fumbled around, pulling something from his belt, all while pushing her tighter to the ground. She could hardly breath from the pressure, hell, she could hardly believe the situation at hand.

Whatever he was in the mist of searching for; he found, pulling the cork off of what seemed to have been a bottle it with his teeth, jerking her head upright by her curls, and pressing an elixir against her lips.

"Drink it."

At the words she sobbed nosily, trying to twist herself away once again. He tightened his grip in her hair, which caused agony to flow through her scalp. But she tried to ignore the pain and focus on a way out of this mess. The tears finally cascading down her cheeks uncontrollably.

"You little bitch, why won't you just corporate?!" The bandit of a man growled harshly, the words vibrating against her ear. Pushing the potion through her lips and forcing her jaw open. As soon as he dunked the liquid into her mouth, she tried to cough and hack it out. Quickly he covered her mouth, plugging her nose to give her no choice but to fall unconscious if she didn't swallow; most likely the outcome either way.

When she couldn't seem to hold her breath any longer; she reluctantly consumed the elixir, or at least sounded like she did to the bandit, Karliah collapsed in defeat. Not falling asleep, but too weak from the potion that was rapidly working through her body alarmingly.

No longer having to hold her down, he was finally free to grab the knife she had attempted to harm him with from his belt; he had managed to wield it there before having to chase after her. The man chuckled softly, his left hand let the empty elixir fall to the dirt before using his grimy hand to grasp her jaw and force her head upright. "Such a cute face..." He sighed, a thumb ran over the soft skin on her upper jaw as well as moving the blade closer to her skin. She whimpered sheepishly as the cool metal grazed against her flesh. "This'll teach you to do as I say. . ." He pressed the blade against her cheek, dragging the sharp object down. He heard her cry out in distress when the weapon broke through the skin, hunching and trying to twist away from the sharp, blinding pain.

He pressed the metal deeper and that's when a blood curdling scream of utter agony cut through the silence, echoing through the entire city. Pain began to radiate through her face, her thundering pulse was like a throbbing vein where the cut had just been placed; forcing the blood to stream out in thick strands down her appearance, hating how her father had just sharpened that blade yesterday at the blacksmith's shop. A sorrowful choke escaping her when he withdrew the weapon from her skin.

"Big mistake little mouse. How about you come to my camp?" The bandit teased, a ugly chuckle escaping him, the blood rushing down her face and dripping to the dirt path, she clenched her eyes shut; all the confusion and pain became too overwhelming and she began to cry. She didn't attempt to stop it, too focused on the feeling of her consciousness slipping away due to the poison. Her head slowly lowered to the ground beneath her.

"I-" Karliah sobbed, she could hardly speak. Tears blurring her vision to the point where the world around her was a black smear. Hell, she wasn't able to tell it from the blood or tears anymore. "D-Don't-"

She didn't have the energy to continue her plead, collapsing hard into the dirt, a soft gasp escaped her from the sudden impact. The bandit chuckled once again, dropping the silver dagger to the dirt path. He draped the young girl her over his shoulder and got to his feet. "You'll have a lot of fun little Hearthfire." He crooned, she whimpered slightly. But didn't speak.

* * *

"We have an entire search party out looking for her as we speak. But we cannot do anything until they get back-"

"She is my goddamn daughter!" The hand of the king; Hogvir Hearthfire reminded in a booming tone that echoed throughout the enclosed room, thankfully the walls were thick. But it only made the steward more aware of how alone he was in the large room, he glanced at the hefty wooden doors that were tightly closed and locked from the inside. Turning back to the lord who was pink in the face. "We will leave no stone unturned looking for her!"

The wood elf steward shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he eyed the angered Nord who looked as if he was prepared to hurt an innocent puppy. "I understand milord." He said in a trembling tone, "but the lead commander's investigators are still trying to find the source; a kidnap, common bandits, or. . ." He swallowed thickly, "or. . . Sex merchants."

Hogvir Hearthfire was soundless for just a brief moment, his face that was a coral color before was now reddening; his breathing heavy. The steward relaxed for a brief moment, praying to the divines that the Hand of the king was at last attempting to settle down. But of course not, he should have expected Hogvir to throw the silver candlestick that stood on top of the round council table; at the stone wall that followed with an obnoxious clanking noise. "That is impossible!" He outraged, the steward couldn't tell if this was anger or grief he was seeing in the man's eyes. "What lead do you have? Anything? Tell me or next that candlestick will be you!"

The elf looked down at the fancy tablecloth, almost hoping that the king would hear all of the commotion and hopefully come down and speak to Hogvir about this whole mess of a situation. And as the missing girl; Karliah Hearthfire's god father -Jarl Jelben should come and console the weeping father. "W-we do have one lead. . ."

"Tell me."

"Milord, you understand that I would tell you anything. But I don't think you could handle this-"

"Karliah is my daughter, if she is in trouble then I want to know; Quin." He said in a low and dangerous tone, seething the steward's name from his tongue. Something that made the Bosmer gulp and quiver in his boots - it was not common that he heard his name come from anyone of higher regards.

Quin pretended to clear his throat. "Some of the locals had shared that around nine at nightfall, they heard a woman scream. A-and that was spoken from the citizens who live near the marketplace. We are already aware of a dangerous crime under the consideration that there was a murder last night" Nearly every word was a stutter, the Steward's eyes focused right on his shaking fingers; fearing what would happen if he continued; let alone gaze up to stare at the Nord.

Hogvir had his jaw clenched so firm that he was sure his teeth would crumble, the older man was waiting for the elf to continue; hanging onto his every word before he seemed to trail off. "And?" He asked in a slow and dangerous voice.

"I said before; I truly don't think you want-"

"Quin I will lock you up in the city jail for a fortnight if you don't spit it out right now!" Somehow his words got more and more menacing as they were spat from the Hearthfire. The steward closed his eyes tightly.

"We have evidence!" The Bosmer clasped his hands so hard together that they began to turn red from the pressure at his fingertips, as if waiting for some sort of impact from the lord. Instead there was a brief silence, Hogvir's posture softened at the words.

"What evidence?" He asked, the tone a bit slow - and thankfully even more gentle; tilting his head to the side slightly.

Moments later, the elf reluctantly pulled a folded cloth from his person. "I took this from the evidence chest but I couldn't bring myself to. . . Show you just yet." He set it on the table delicately, "and I ask of you to not throw it. . . We need to deliver it to the court wizard Ulna for further examination."

Hogvir bitterly threw his hands up to grasp the clothed object, impatient to see the so 'evidence'. But the Nord stopped dead when his dagger tumbled from the soft fabric. Glaring at the weapon as if it was a dead animal with it's guts spilled out all over the carved wooden surface. The steward sat there, still as a board; fearing the worst.

In silence Hogvir grabbed the handle, the newly sharpened blade that he had given to his little girl to protect herself if she needed to. And . . . It seemed that she had attempted such a thing.

"Please do not exasperate the situation, the shops are nearly ready for closing. If you feel insecure about this you can take my dagger."

"It was found in the marketplace, tossed to the side of a puddle of blood." The wood elf explained slowly to the impassive man, he hadn't moved quite yet; in fact his shoulders that moved with every breath even halted. The blade still held in his calloused grip, even the metal suddenly felt unfamiliar; even though he had owned the thing for several years and shared many memories with the object. Hogvir turned the cursed blade on it's side, a fair amount of red blood lined the silver edge. His breath came out in a flutter.

"Who's blood is this?" He questioned in a hushed tone, the man already knew the answer, something deep down in his aching soul just knew; he just didn't want to be right. It was hers. His baby girl's blood, someone had had the audacity to hurt her. Wound her with his own damn weapon. What a twisted fucking concept. 

"The local conjurer traced it back to the Hearthfire bloodline. And so was the gore in the marketplace." He stated softly, Hogvir didn't answer. An eerie silence washed over the two of them, a whole minute must have passed before the Hand of the king finally spoke:

"Get someone to fetch my eldest daughter." He demanded, ignoring the weaver in his voice as he rose from the fine chair he had sat rigidly on. A dizzy feeling overcame him and he sudden felt like he was flying. Honestly he wished that he was, just so he could fall. "I'm going to be here for a long time and she's not being alone."

 


	2. Innocent Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠⚠⚠ Explicit content! Physical Abuse and non consensual activity lies ahead!! ⚠ if you are sensitive to such -please don't read further!  
> Hi, no one asked for this. But eh, fuck it. Some sadistic person will get a kick out of this. I am going to split this chapter into about two or three chapters (the original has about 22k words) so there will be more to come.  
> These chapters are cringy and uncomfortable, not just the content but the plot. But y'all gotta suffer with me. Enjoy I suppose? You won't enjoy.

A drop of water from the stone ceiling splashed on her temple as she began to stir from her slumber, dull amethyst eyes slowly appeared from behind her eyelids, blinking away the wild blur from her vision. The Noble expected to be looking up at the wooden ceiling in her bedroom back in Blackwood. Expecting to have a comforting smell distributing through the room because Edna was cooking up a nice breakfast, but instead, she smelled something foul and overwhelming - stinging her nostrils at every inhale. Nor did she see her bedroom, the woman hissed softly as a rubbing throb sent a wave of pain through her face while she separated her cheek from the cobblestone floor it was pressed against; her hand rose gingerly to her cheekbone to feel the wound on her skin which was most likely what woke her up in the first place.

Tongue darting out to run over her dry and cracked lips - Karliah Hearthfire's eyes adjusted to the darkness; landing on a thick metal door not even three feet in front of her.

She let loose a dry cough - pulling herself upright from the cold, stone ground to side sit. Thousands of questions began swimming around her head, where in the seven hells was she? Why was she here? It didn't take much longer for her heartbeat to speed up to match her emotions, the adrenaline pumping through her which made her nearly forget the searing pain in her left cheek as terror settled.

It. . . Was all real, wasn't it? The merchant losing his life before her eyes, the bandit carving a gnarled wound into her skin; it had all been real. So that meant the situation at hand was the unfortunate aftermath. And she was trapped, trapped like a bird in a cage one size too small with her wings clipped and unamendable.

Before Karliah could waste another second, because who knew when someone was going to walk right through that iron entry. She dashed towards the door, but didn't get farther than a foot before being restricted; slipping and bruising her knee on the stone floor.

She painfully hissed, her eyes darted straight to the rusty chain shackling her to the wall, a red ring on where it had begun to rub her ankle raw over the time it had been clasped to her limb. Defeated, she clenched her jaw in attempts to distract herself from the heat welling up in her eyes.

The aristocrat pulled her legs to her chest, the chain scraping on the floor beneath her. Karliah rubbed the forming bruise on her knee as her sight decreased with the sudden blur of tears. It was as much sorrow as it was utter exasperation and anger, who in their right mind would do such a thing to someone? Attack her at nightfall and take her against her will to an unknown location? Not to mention, causing her redundant pain.

Karliah shook her head, a shudder escaping her lips while her hand went up to touch the fresh cut on her face, the dry blood crusting off to fall in flakes to her fingertips; by some means allowing fresh blood to clot on the surface of her skin. She mewled with distress, it hurt, divines; everything seemed to hurt.

"Hello? Is someone awake over there?"

A hoarse female tone made her jump in her own skin, her head whipping around to the direction of the voice; only to see a stone brick wall. She shakily inhaled through her nose, wiping the tears from her eyes with an unsteady hand. Her palm mixed with dirt, blood, sweat, tears, and divines know what else. Her lip trembled as she gathered her words. "I-Is someone there?" Karliah's sentence came out sputtered, but she still heard a sigh of relief come from the other side of the wall.

"Thank the gods you're still breathing, I feared that Borik just heaved your lifeless body in here."

Karliah knew that she would come to regret asking but what more harm could a simple question do after everything she had been through? "W-who's Borik?"

She heard a faint laugh from behind the bricks, "the chief of this gods-forsaken place. As well as the Nordic bastard who brought you in here." She heard the scraping of chains against stone, perhaps the woman was shifting around. "I'm glad to have someone to chat with again, the last girl got her throat slit." The words were stated with mild irritation while Karliah's eyes widened in horror.

"What?" Her tone a bit higher than it was moments before, throat cut? Just like what happened to the merchant outside of the marketplace back home? Could something like that happen to her in the near future? By the planes of Oblivion; that was impossible! She was the daughter of Hogvir Hearthfire for the divines' sake!

The woman laughed subtly before being interrupted by a dry wheeze that continued for a few ongoing seconds, Karliah cringed at the feeble noise. She cleared their throat before continuing. "So what's your name, girl?"

This person was taking this situation surprisingly well, much better than the aristocrat could. A silence took over as the redheaded Breton stared sickly at the unwashed floor, "Karliah. . ." Her voice was a pitiful whisper, she never thought that saying her own name could sound so pathetic. Using her dirty tunic to wipe the bottoms of her eyes. "And you are?"

"Hah!" The woman was interrupted by another violent cough, as if she was trying to hack up something large lodged inside her throat - or her lungs for that matter. Karliah frowned deeply.

"Are. . . You okay. . ?" She asked, it was human nature to show any sort of worry on someone who sounded as if they were coughing up blood. Weakly; she brushed the ratty red hair from her eyes.

"Karliah, that was it, right? I've been here for over three months, this room is infested with the Brain Rot and Done Break Fever. I give myself a few more weeks at the most." The words were stated in a relaxed manner, and all while it made the royal girl grimace in horror. Brain Rot? Bone Beak Fever?! She had heard of the common illnesses, usually carried by those ugly rats the size of a troll's foot. There were even stories of bird-like witches up North carrying the ailment. Karliah herself had never known anyone who had experienced it first-hand, as you had to be a filthy person to encounter it or very reckless and daft. "My name is Froan, not that it matters. You're the new toy."

The Noble's thoughts were interrupted by the woman's words. A throaty gasp escaping her with her acknowledgment, something that scratched at her throat in a bothersome manner. Toy? What did the woman mean by that? "What are they going to do to me?" She asked; bewildered, though the way it had been worded seemed to petrify the young girl. Her question went unanswered, still, she waited for some sort of answer from the woman on the other side of the wall. "Hello?"

Nothing.

Karliah bit her lip, bending her leg so she could scoot closer to one side of the confining and very discomforting stone wall to at least have something to lean against. The lack of noise made her very aware of every tousle of wind or the muffled laughter that could be made out from across the building. The lack of illumination was beginning to weaken her eyesight, or maybe it was just the ungenerous amount of light coming from the crack under the door was beginning to deteriorate, she was suddenly aware of the fact that her needs would not be tended to; and if so it would be delivered more harshly than one would treat a captured wolf. Food, water, basic human needs would most likely be ignored.

Divines, how long would she be here?

* * *

A day or two must have passed, she began to count the hours all by the amount of illumination shrouding the room; it was hard to tell but it was more than she expected. With that being said there wasn't much you could do in a cramped dungeon-like room. The least she could undertake was gods forbid try to tell what time it was.

Sometimes, she would be fortunate enough and a conversation would be close enough to the iron entry that she could make out the string of words from outside. Most of it was irrelevant, speaking of the most useless things. Rarely she heard herself be mentioned -it had happened once. Hours ago she supposed, maybe yesterday. Apparently, she was known as "The Hearthfire bitch" among the savage men.

And it hurt, to be disrespected so bluntly by individuals that knew nothing about her.

Sometime around the second nightfall: someone had shoved a tankard full of water along with a half a piece of bread through the opening underneath the door. No words being exchanged, it was so quick that she believed it to be made up by her imagination. But staring at the items settled on the filthy floor, her stomach hurled; or was it a growl? In other circumstances, she would have denied such a pathetic excuse of a meal. But how? How could she at this point? Did she want to die? Honestly, she wasn't sure.

No one had came to check on her to see if she was still breathing, and the woman on the other side of the wall hadn't said anything to Karliah since the hour she woke up. Nothing was halting her from fearing the worst, wondering whether the woman was just sleeping or dead. Whichever one was the answer; it didn't matter. She needed to get out of here, nothing grand awaited her as long as she stayed in this prison.

Even with those thoughts of determination, she couldn't pry open that damn door, let alone reach it. It was odd feeling both inspired and hopeless all at once, wanting to find a way out of this cell but knowing that there were no means. But with all of this time in her hands -Karliah couldn't sleep. The fear of waking up to that man; Borik standing over her like a predator was too much for her mind to bare.

If there was no light at the end of this tunnel then she had to start it herself she supposed. Though it proved to be no easy task, if there was one sign of prosperity; it was that no one came to take the metal tankard back from her.

It seemed daft but in that small stein; she saw potential. And with that Karliah began to wait, and do so till no one was near the cell door, until the light pouring out from underneath the door was dim enough to be considered dusk. Ice settled in the bottom of her stomach - a fearful undertone in her gut that made her wonder if she even should even attempt to flee this place. The reluctance in her actions made her think, perhaps this was just her fate? And attempting to disrupt it would only make things worse for her?

But she had to! Karliah Hearthfire was someone. Not just some peasant nobody with an appearance you would pass by and never recall afterward. She could not just fade out of history merely because she had disappeared from her hometown. It took a few attempts but she soon gathered enough courage from her own motivational thoughts to grab ahold of the metal tankard and hover it over the rusty shackle around her ankle.

Bringing down the solid stein on the thick metal brace; a loud clanking sound echoed through the fort with impact. A bolt of fear shot through her heart and spread throughout her limbs, pondering how many marauders could have perceived that. Hands trembling as she once again rose the mug and brought it down on the irons, the sound this time managed to be even more obnoxious. Again and again, divines her limbs were shaking so much. And once more she hurled down the metal object, the cuffs had endured enough stress and the noble managed to break open the lock.

I was like sunlight peeking through thick black clouds for the first time after a nasty storm, in reality, she had only been here a few days but to her, it seemed like a century. Karliah flung her hands forward and peeled the fetter from her ankle and toss on the stone floor, rendering it useless. The moment of triumph was cut short when it appeared that the racket she was producing grabbed the attention of someone outside of that door, the Breton heard heavy footsteps creeping closer and closer to the chamber. Karliah could feel her heartbeat shaking her bones and throbbing in her throat, the anticipation too much for her.

"What are you doing in there?" The familiar voice sent bolts of lightning to the tips of her fingers as she kept her grip tight on the metal tankard, it had to be that man; Borik or whatever he called himself. She swallowed thickly and shifted her weight so her swollen ankle laid beneath her. Karliah didn't respond, honestly, she wasn't even sure if she could use her voice after the countless hours of silence. The bandit didn't seem delighted with the lull and grumbled under his breath, beginning to unlock the large metal door. 

Karliah only got to see the Nord's appearance for a brief moment before she knew who he was. Swiftly, she chucked the tankard at his face when the door was shoved open and his head stuck through; the stein's handle hit his nose with an unsatisfying smack. The man staggered back from the entrance on impact and Karliah jumped to her feet, shoving the bandit out of the way before turning left down the wide corridor.

Looking around at her surroundings before quickly darting down the corridor, she let go of a startled breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding. The hallway before her seemed as if it was to go on forever. She passed by several sets of metal doors just like the one she had been trapped behind, divines only knew if someone like her resided behind any of them; if anything this was a damn underground dungeon. Not even having time to glance behind her to investigate if she was being chased, Karliah turned right to flee up a spiral set of stone stairs. Slipping on the fifth step in what she hoped was water, continuing up the cobblestone stairs on all fours. She didn't know energy she was using to get out of here, but whatever it was she thanked every blessed divine aiding her.

The sounds of voices and laughter were getting closer, the shred of doubt that she pushed to the back of her mind pestered her. If there was an exit to this maze of a place, then it surely would be guarded by someone who would not hesitate to harm her.

Karliah's best bet was to avoid all rooms where any voices could be heard, at some point in this race inside the stronghold she lost one of her slippers but paid no mind as the Breton sprinted left down a short hallway. For a brief moment; the young woman paused to open an oak wood door only for her eyes to meet with mead barrels stockpiled on top of each other, she slammed it shut and kept going until she met with a set of double doors at the end of the hall; much to her relief it was unlocked.

Hauling the doors open she found that it was a master bedroom, or something made into the source. The room looked as if it was built to hold storage, weapons, cargo, and armor of some sort. She slammed the door behind her - eyes darting wall to wall until they landed on a circular table with a couple chairs placed around it. Karliah dashed to the furniture. Dragging one of the seats over to the door, pressing the cresting rail right on the doorknob. Praying to Talos and any other god willing to listen; that it would hold. The Breton girl took her time to catch her breath after all that running, sputtered gasps escaping her all while she desperately searched for some sort of way out.

Her lilac eyes scanned the area. Dining table, fireplace, King-sized bed, bookshelf, window- Window!

She scampered towards it, legs trembling beneath her weight as Karliah pushed open the wooden shudders. The first thing that caught her eye was the trees, even if the only light she was granted was the sliver of sun peeking out from the horizon; it was still there. She could see the vibrant greens coming from the surrounding trees, the grass itself was so far, at least three stories then was followed with a downslide. She would break bones and possibly even perish but if all went well then she would be free from captivity.

The faint view of Blackwood peeking out through the shrubs is what truly made her jump up and swing her legs over the ledge. It was now or never, her body tremored as Karliah prepared to slip from the ledge. Divines must have had something against her, considering moments before her hands were about to release from the seal and plummet to the ground. A large calloused hand tangled itself in her scarlet curls and pulled her from the ledge.

Under different circumstances, she would have been thankful to be pulled back from the fall; but she knew that who pulled her back didn't do it to save her hide. The reason was much more hideous and overall inhumane.

She had lost her chance.

The outlaw's rigid form wasn't there for her to be hauled against, instead, she was thrown to the hard stone floor as if she was a futile ragdoll. Her head smacked against the cement, for a brief moment the aristocrat blacked out. Her head spun and she gasped in agony. Eyes fluttering back open to see that familiar man hastily slam the window shudders, he flashed a malicious gaze her way. "You foolish girl, there are two entrances to this room." His statement was anything but solacing, once her vision began to clear; Karliah could make out the clot of blood gathering right beneath his wide nostril from where she had struck him with the tankard, it was the only thing in this situation that compelled her to smile wryly through the sense of drowsiness. "You thought you could escape? From _me?"_

He made an advancement; reaching down and seizing her by her biceps, the Breton flinched at the quick movement and kicked back pitifully. A distressed whimper easing from her, in order to deny the man. "D-don't touch me." She regulated.

Borik chuckled in what Karliah could only guess was amusement, "who gave you the impression that **you** could order **me** around? You wear your title like armor little Miss _Hearthfire_." He spat her name out like a bad taste, without skipping a beat he once again clutched her upper arm and wrenched the noble to her feet. She thrashed in his grip, resisting was hopeless but she still attempted. "A pathetic armor choice if you ask me, you're lucky that you're pleasing to look at; in other circumstances, I would have let my men have their way with you before putting you to death for these actions." With no remorse in his activity- he hauled the young girl forward to the double set of doors she had shoved the chair against in order to stop him from coming in.

Borik vigorously spun her around to face him before thrusting her into the seat, "stay put." He growled. The Breton found herself obeying, dreading what could possibly happen if she disputed. Fury laid beneath his eyes as he brought a gloved hand to his crooked nose to inspect the damage, huffing briefly before beginning to pull his leather gauntlets off; Karliah's wide eyes watched him slowly. "You don't want to soil the evening more than you already have, do you?" He asked, most likely referring how his night had been playing out prior to her chucking a tankard at his face.  He pulled his last finger from the glove socket and slapped it on the edge of the wooden table a few steps away.

The sudden noise made her jump in the wooden seat, in an attempt to calm herself; she inhaled deeply and let loose a trembling sigh before speaking. "Want do you want?" Karliah inquired softly. "Money? My family could pay you handsomely if you just. . . Let me go." Words that were once spoken diligently rode off into a hiss, instead of showing exasperation for her statement; his grin broadened. She didn't understand what he found so entertaining about this whole situation

"What in your daft little head told you I was after gold?"

Her mouth that had forced itself into a stern frown opened to speak but she found herself unable to have an answer formed. Though her mouth stayed agape. "The what else would you be after?" She snapped bitterly, her pale hands that had stayed still at her sides began to tighten into small fists. "That is what bandits do, right? They kill and steal, and I wouldn't deny for a second that you capture noble men and women in order to get a ransom. I can give you what you want, so let me go and my family will pay you." Her rebuttal didn't go unnoticed by the Nord, in fact, while she spoke he stepped towards the dining table a couple meters from where she sat to set his hand on the wood; eyes boring into her intently 

"Ransom." He repeated aloud before letting loose a hard and churlish chuckle. A crude sound that had Karliah's heart speeding up in terror, an emotion she wasn't sure if she had ever felt in her life. "You Nobles and your gold. It's all that you think about isn't it? If I wanted your father's coin I would have sent a letter days ago - if I was that desperate." Another chortle joined the tension, he pushed his hand from the timber and stepped towards the chair Karliah felt glued to. "Why would I do such a thing and not spend my time wisely? Get to know the Hearthfire princess a bit before I sent her on her way. . ."

The Breton could feel her heart throbbing inside her chest, and at the crooned comment; her blood seemed to run cold. She wasn't sure what he meant by that but her gut informed her that it was nothing grand. Karliah could feel her charcoal tunic clinging to the sweat beading on the curve of her back. "You will do no such thing." She snapped, her lilac eyes must have been broadening by the second -but she stood her ground. He frowned at her denial, more than likely still humored by this situation.

He looked like a saber cat ready to pounce on its prey in a moment's notice. "I don't know who has given you the impression that you can order me around." What his point was, Karliah couldn't begin to comprehend - but she understood that it was something. He inched closer to her, more than he had seconds before; he was close enough now that she could smell him. The pungent scent of Nordic ale and meat; something told the Noble to jump up from the chair and bolt for the first exit.

A shaky breath escaped her, eyes narrowing to her right in order to steal a glance over at the fight of stairs that led up to the fourth floor of the stronghold well on the other side of the room. Apparently, the man had been speaking solemnly through her panic search for a getaway. Only when his calloused fingers reached up to grab her chin did she snap back from her thoughts and yet again notice the menacing man before her. "Are you disregarding me? It's time you learn some discipline; you pompous bitch."

He didn't expect her to fight back, meaning he sure as hell didn't expect the aristocrat to twist her head away from his grip; leg flying out to kick him in his shin. Karliah leaped up from the seat and began to flee straight for the set of stairs leading up to the fourth level. Frankly, her legs weren't long enough to cover enough ground, hopefully, the jab to his leg would be enough time for her to at least find out where she was to go and how to get out. The bandit chief released a pained grunt, but the Breton paid it no mind. Bolting up the wooden stairs.

It was only a matter of time until the man was at her heels, once she reached the top of the steps Karliah turned down the L-shaped corridor with wooden walls, matching floors and doors. Three timber entrances; if she was brisk on her feet then she could check every one before he got to the top of the stairs. The first door on her left she threw open, what awaited her seemed to be a washroom. Karliah left the door open and checked the second door, nothing; only crates and boxes stockpiled upon each other filled with divines know what. 

She could hear the steady thumping of the bandit's boots against the stairs as he patiently climbed them, was he taunting her? She didn't know. With a swift glance at the last door beside the end of the hall; Karliah found herself praying to the divines (something she seemed to be doing a lot these past couple days). Begging that the door would lead to her escape and she would be rid of this place and their blasted leader. The Breton wrapped her hand around the knob and twisted it.

Locked.

"No!" She cried out. The panic that she managed to suppress for the past ten minutes or so seemed to be at last boiling over. Amethyst eyes as wide as saucers gaped down the corridor, the thumping on the steps came to a halt and the Nordic man had reached the fourth level. Breath coming out in brief gasps; Karliah twisted the handle once again before resulting in throwing her form against the entrance. Tears prickling in her eyes, consoling herself by thinking that maybe if she kept at it then Stendarr would grace her and magically -the door would open.

"The lock is a deadbolt, you won't get through that door without a key." 

At unnecessary fact, the aristocrat felt a cold chill seep down her spine. Spinning around and pressing her back against the thick lumber. Eyes making out the bandit's broadening form that lounged against the wooden wall, she ignored his statement and pressed her palms flat on the door. In an attempt to somehow state the last bit of dominance she had in this situation (though there was none from the start) Karliah clenched her jaw and tried to hold her head high. "Release me." She snapped.

"Release you?" He laughed, something that not only mocked her; but horrified her. He was blocking her only way out considering she had foolishly trapped herself in the midst of this corridor. He sauntered towards the woman, taking his damn time as if he enjoyed the view of Hogvir Hearthfire's youngest daughter trembling in a corner. "Enlighten me, please. I'm very intrigued by your way of thinking."

He was close enough to reach out and catch her chin with his fingers like he had done on the third floor not even a couple minutes ago, but instead of merely continuing his sneering comments for her to perceive; he brought his mouth down on hers in a vulgar manner. She squirmed in his grip as she attempted crane her neck to separate her head from his, her fists pounding on his rigid chest in relentless attempts at harming him to pry his face from hers, the bristle around his lips scraped against the skin of her jaw. His tongue ran across the swell of her bottom lip and she nearly threw up from the sense; Karliah pressed the palm of her hands against his chest to shove him back but her pitiful venture only led to the man wrapping his hand around her wrists to pin them above her head viciously. Her bones struck the wall with a loud smack that rattled her limbs. A disgruntled exclaim surpassed her mouth at the brutal treatment, but the noise was swallowed.

It seemed to take a few seconds for the situation to sink in and register exactly what was happening. Her left leg flew up in order to kick the man in his shin, knowing that it had worked downstairs it could work once more; he seemed to realize this little strategy she had prised together and compressed her against the discomforting wall. She still struggled, her foot flying up but slipping on the floorboards. At this feeble moment, Borik used it to his advantage -shoving his knee against her leg to keep her from gaining her footing once again. Karliah twisted her head and managed to break free from his merciless kiss, a strangled gasp left her lips - catching her breath. "Oh come on, little princess, you can do better than that can't you?" He crooned, his free hand catching her chin and turning her head up to stare into her blazing eyes. His lips had a shine of saliva coating them and with a revolting realization, Karliah came to the conclusion that hers did as well.

The words sent a boiling rage that prickled in her fingertips, she could feel her torso trembling from dismay, and with no true way to express it; she could only whine in distress. "My father will kill you if you do not let me go." She warned ardently, it was all she had at this point - threats. But ones she wholeheartedly believed. "Behead you in the city of Leyawiin for even laying a finger on me!"

He gruffly chuckled at her intimidation, she could feel the breath brush against her mouth as his lips hovered above hers. He decided not to make a comment. She shouted in protest as he jerked her from the position against the wall and tightened his grip on her wrists to haul her from her feet. He was dragging her back to the stairs, at this point, Karliah didn't know what she desired. Staying in this dim hallway wouldn't do her any favors and nor would being back in that chamber on the third floor.

Shouting at him to let her go hadn't seemed to work the first few times she had demanded he do so, Karliah hadn't even bothered this time around. Borik's hands had pulled her forward to clasp his grip around her waist, as he had released her arms -her hands flung up with divine's wrath; beating down on his grasp to break free. Her relentless pounds against his flesh would surely leave marks but he did not falter, hissing with rage as he continued to prod down the corridor.  

"Stop squirming, will you?!" His tone resembling a growl, something that vibrated against her ear; breath hot and heavy. She neglected him, telling herself that she would not make this painless for him. He would have to travel to the Oblivion planes and back - even more before she considered obliging. The tips of her feet scraped against the floorboards, her remaining golden laced slipper falling from her foot to slap against the ground. She kicked profusely, slamming her knee against the wall as he heaved her closer to the stairs. 

"No!" Karliah bellowed, her heart beating against her ribcage as she twisted her body; getting her head close to his wrist. She didn't even think, throwing her head back and chomping down into his flesh -teeth sinking into his skin with anger. Biting down as hard as her jaw would allow her. 

"Gah! You little bitch!" He struggled against her, ripping his hand from her mouth; a chunk of his flesh flying out from her teeth as he reclined. The bandit hissed in agony, blood already cascading down to the tips of his fingers. Borik grabbed the woman by her ratty hair to pull her head back and in a moments notice - he threw the noble down the set of stairs.  

At first, Karliah hadn't realized what had happened - a fleet of time went by and she felt as if she was flying like a hawk in the wind. Her body slammed against something hard, she meant to scream but her voice was caught in her throat. She began to tumble down the set of stairs, an explosion of pain radiated through her arm; prickles of numbing agony soar through her bloodstream and the Breton let loose a short-lived scream. Her body flipped forwards and her legs were above her, the side of her head smacked against the stone and her limbs followed suit. Her vision went black, she couldn't feel anything but pulsing agony radiating in her right arm. Her elbow felt as if it was swelling, her bones felt disconnected and the rest of her body ached.

With this sudden trauma; Karliah could sense that she would never be able to move; that this was going to be her end -and that she was going to die. A rasping groan escaped her, the side of her face squished against the cold surface. Everything was quiet, her lilac eyes finally adjusted to her environment - she blinked. Blurry vision taking in the white floor she involuntarily laid against.

She heard the man's bitter voice from where he resided at the tops of the steps, she could not comprehend what he had said but she soon came to the conclusion that it was nothing grand. His tone was equivalent to listening to someone speak from the bottom of a sewer gate. Karliah did all she could to move her right arm to brace herself against the floor but could only sob in pain when a sharp stab coursed through her body, the Breton lifted her left arm from its limp place on top of her to cradle the infliction. "How was that? Being punished for the actions you take into place?" She could hear the steady beat of his boots connecting with the steps she had just been tossed down as he sulked after her, her left hand clenched into a fist as she moved it to press again the stone floor. Body trying to gather enough strength to get on all fours and crawl away. 

"Didn't your father ever teach you that valuable lesson? Or your favored king? Or does Karliah Hearthfire believe that the world revolves around her and her family?" She managed to bend her knees and support her weight on her left limb, her right arm curled underneath her breasts as she tried to grovel from the foot of the stairs. She could hear Borik's footsteps getting clearer and clearer until a steady thump signaled that he had reached the third floor. 

The door was just a bit further. Karliah didn't know what part of her mind assured her that she would manage to drag herself all the way out that door -even outside of the stronghold altogether. Surely she was ailing from the fall and couldn't think straight. 

That graceful thought of breaking free was demolished when she felt a solid boot planted itself between her shoulder blades, pushing her down to lay flat on her stomach. Her knees slipped under his weight on the cement and she collapsed, her body crushing her right arm between the floor and her mass; "fuck!" She sobbed out, an uncivil word for her nature but the syllables passed her lips without question. "Stay still." He growled.

Karliah stifled back a sob that forced her torso to tremble, her mind still in a thick haze as well as her head weighing the equivalent of a dozen iron ingots placed on her shoulders. She could not rid the confusion from her mind but all in all, it did not take brilliance to realize the situation was not in her favor. The man adjusted her form on the floorboards as she writhed against his pestering grasp. Her attempts weak and feeble and the most she could muster was the disapproving twist of her hips.

For one of the first times in her entire life, Karliah found herself wanting her mother. Though she was dead, suddenly she wanted to be swept into the woman's arms as she would have been if her mother never passed away. Hum her to sleep as she could recall Vennessa speaking somberly of in the course of their childhood. Not only that but she wanted her father, wanted one of his bear-like embraces that made her feel as if no one could ever harm her to sweep her away from this realm of existence. She wanted her godfather Jelben, wanted him to make her laugh until her stomach hurt, comfort her for the daftest reasons. Her sister's commentary that always brightened her day, she just needed the comfort of the life she knew; not this. Not this endangerment, imprisonment.

 He had lowered himself to her level on the floor and had thankfully moved his boot from the curve of her back. His roughened hands had begun to trace idly across her form, a trace of his blood from the wound she had inflicted bled onto the stitching of her trousers as his fingers gripped the flesh of her outer thigh, she couldn't feel it. She could only make out her arm swelling, pounding like a second heartbeat against her chest as her limbs throbbed. His gruff laugh was made out over the constant ringing in her ears, calloused hands reached firmly to the sides of her hips to curve her body so her stomach was no longer crushing her broken joint. Soon he was fumbling with the ties of her trousers, unbuttoning the golden stud keeping them pressed to her waist.

As he was struggling to cascade the material from her body, she started crying. Something so sudden yet after it's time, with the fat tears welling up in her eyes. Surely Borik heard the hicks and cries escaping her while he continued his dirty work but he had resentfully paid it no heed; all but the serene "Shh" he whispered behind her.

 Karliah hadn't been particularly sure when she had finally understood what he was going to do, perhaps it was taken into consideration - first entering her mind only to be shoved away vehemently; that there was no possible way that could be done to someone like her, anyone but her. The tears curved down her nose due to the noble being smudged face-first into the ground. "Don't."

"Shut up." He snapped, jerking her hips up so her knees were pressed hard against the floor. Karliah tried to move, nails digging into the concrete to give herself some leverage and drag herself forward; of course it didn't work but she still put in an attempt. He slipped the darkly colored trousers down her legs. "Stay still, you stupid bitch." He grabbed her hip with a bruising force and with a sharp tug towards him; her left elbow slipped from its position and she crashed down on her broken arm.

"Ah!" She sobbed out, tears still seeping from the inner corners of her eyes as his free hand that wasn't trying to free her from her garments; grabbed her left hand and locked it behind her back. 

"Why can't you be cooperative? Do all nobles have to make everything a battle?" He enquired, leaning his weight on her arm positioned behind her. His fingers tucked themselves into the band of her undergarments, unhurriedly he began to slip the clothing from her hips. 

"Let me go," Karliah begged, hand clenching to a fist behind her back; she pressed her legs together in order to halt the clothing from slipping further from her form. Trembling with her endeavoring task. This movement did not go unnoticed by the reaver, his nose crinkled up in dissatisfaction as he brought his right hand up to his mouth to place it over his bleeding wound in order to halt the gore for just a moment before continuing his work. Moving his arm to grab a tight hold on her right leg to pull it from its tight place against her other appendage. Karliah kicked pitifully, "let me go!"

 _"Let me go."_ He mocked through clenched teeth, her wrist grew white from his rigid grip. "It seems your fellow Blue-bloods had better things to attend to than to teach you the word _please_." With his last word, he unceremoniously hauled the silk undergarment to her ankles. This ghoulish man was keen on taking his time in mocking her all for the fun of it.

Karliah's bottom lip tremored, tears drying onto her cheeks as she shifted. "Please." She felt the heat from the palm of his hand rest onto her smooth backside, tracing his fingers along her flesh for a few moments before his hand abandoned her body and went to undo the buckles on his trousers. "Please let me go."

Borik ignored her, nevertheless the Breton had not anticipated him to listen anyhow. Were the divines watching her at this moment? Observing the crude way she was positioned in front of his unjustifiable man? Shaking their heads at the unfortunate way her life choices had played out? Karliah didn't know and more than likely her questions would stay unanswered. Suddenly the thick silence only filled with her cries was broken by the gruff sound of Borik's voice. 

"Arch your back." He commanded her, something that he did not wait for her to carry out as his hand that had placed itself on her ass ran over her lower back; the black tunic she wore he slipped up ever so slightly to press down on the curve of her spine, a bead of blood cascaded down the side of his hand to collect on the surface of her skin. "You're almost a natural." He sneered.

Borik trailed his fingers down her back, the small stream of blood trailing after his hand before he hastily wiped it on his trousers, he retracted his hand from her body -expecting her to hold that pose as he positioned himself between her trembling legs. Pulling his cock out and diligently placed himself before her entrance. 

Through a red curtain of hair that slipped in front of her face, Karliah's eyes widened in horror; she jerked away from the obscene touch. He did not allow her to shift as he briskly shot forward to grip the small of her back to hold her still as she tried to turn herself around to address the man. She did not prove to be successful; her moment very short-lived before he proceeded to shove her head back to the floor, her cheek pressed hard against the cold stone. "I'm a virgin." She sniveled, eyes screwing shut as if bracing herself for his incoming actions with soaked eyes.

He put a stop to his actions for a brief moment, and for a second Karliah found herself having faith in the notion that her words had halted him from going further with this venture. Instead, he released a deep sigh, whether it was of content or disgruntlement she did not know. He brought his hand up to his mouth to spit in his hand and motioning his arm down between her thighs to trace the wet fingers across her slit.

She let loose a strangled sob at the deviant sensation prior to moving his hand back from her body, tracing his tip over her folds; positioning himself in front of her entrance. "Then I'll just make sure it doesn't hurt."

 * * *

A dull throb pounded against her temple; like unknown figure was continuously crushing her skull between their palms. It wasn't pleasant to wake up to but there was no complaint. A soft grunt surpassed her lips. Karliah steadily peeled her eyes open.

Blackness, she couldn't see a thing for the briefest moment. Eyes blurry from a thin sheet of tears hidden behind her lids, she blinked; clearing them as her gaze was met with a dark ceiling. No light shone through any nearby windows, not to mention the scenery before her was unfamiliar. The Noble made an advancement to turn over and inspect the surrounding area but an excruciating pain blossomed in her elbow joint and her side ached with a sharp irritation, she whimpered sheepishly at the unsuspecting sensation. 

Karliah attempted to steady her breathing, realizing very swiftly that sharp inhales did not do her ribcage any justice. Her heartbeat felt as if it was jumping in her gullet, the Breton swallowed thickly - trying to moisten her dry throat. She moved her head up to inspect the leather straps binding her hands together over her head and to a flimsy bedframe of the sort 

Her breath hitched, eyes that struggled to stay open; widened to the size of saucers at the sight. No. . . It couldn't be, right? Her eyes must have been deceiving her to witness something she had merely dreamt about- 

Despite such limits she was trying to go through in order to deny everything. Something clicked inside her head and all the missing puzzle pieces fell into place and the whole picture was clear. Crashing down on her like a damn wave. Her eyes swept across the room in order to gather information on what had changed since. . .  

No natural night, for most of the part; where she was forced to reside the room bathed in darkness. Her lilac eyes scanned the area until landing on a distinct candle across the room, settled on a wooden table and extinguishing the surrounding gloom. There she made out an outline of a man who sat in the chair beside the light, a novel placed in his hand as he admired it; where he must've learned how to read - she did not know. He cocked his head to the side, enough for her weak vision to observe the snarl on his face; the candlelight illuminating his features to give him a demonic look. 

Almost; as if he could feel her eyes burning into his appearance, he glanced up from the pages and for a second their eyes met - Karliah tore her gaze away in hopes that maybe he wouldn't have noticed her surveying him, jaw clenching till her teeth began to ache. Borik; unlike the previous hour, or maybe even day: was rid of his steel plated armor and replaced with a pair of dark brown trousers and the lack thereof a tunic.

Karliah closed her eyes, her head turned to the side in hopes that he would just go back to whatever he believed himself to be doing and leave her be. The Noble felt as if she was going to throw up. She didn't want him to coerce her into going through that sick act again.

This had to be the end of the line, no matter what could be said; the unspeakable had been done and she was now made the victim. The Daedra had had their fun, it was time for someone to find her. Hell, would everything even be okay? Had her father sent a search party out to look for her? Was anyone trying to find her?

"I know you're awake, girl." His uncanny tone broke through the silence, sounding like glass shattering against a wall. Karliah's blood seemed to go cold, warily hoisting her head to witness him gloating at her. She couldn't bring herself to utter a word, dreading what might occur if she did such a thing. He dog-eared the page left on and closed the volume to lay his eyes on her form, not necessarily her eyes but she supposed that was expected.

"What. . . Did you do to me?" Her voice cracked, a thin coat of tears still blurring her eyesight. She didn't sound as menacing as she intended for, Karliah wasn't sure if she truly wanted whatever answer he would give her. He seemed to just possess a somber grin, it morphed his features making him look more irritated than she hoped that he planned. As if her inquiry agitated him beyond her understanding. He didn't reply, turning back to the table and setting the novel on the wooden surface.

"I did whatever I liked." He stated before releasing a dirty cackle, rising from the wooden seat and glancing in her direction before heading over to the center of the room a few meters in front of the bed. He was surely right with his statement of doing whatever he wanted, taking her dignity, shoving her name in the mud, throwing her into the darkest plain of Oblivion until the void spit her back out.

He had snatched something from the cement floor and ambled towards her; out of some sort of pathetic instinct -she flinched. Her shoulders hunching softly as she closed her eyes. Knowing that she couldn't use her arms to defend herself. She felt the man grasp her legs and suddenly a material was being hauled up her legs. She peeked an eye open and realized that Borik had tugged her trousers up her body. 

He didn't bother to stay afterward, leaving her in there as if this was all her problem to fix; as if she had done all of this to herself. Shutting the door behind himself with it locked from the outside. When she felt as if she was completely alone and Borik wouldn't come back, she began to cry. Ignoring the sharp pain in her chest, arm, and waist as she curled her legs up and in on herself. The physical pain would leave, heal, and most likely not even leave an imprint that could be seen by the naked eye. This was different, by gods, it was so different. Her mind ached, her soma, heart, soul, everything. She felt like a beaten dog on the side of a road.

By the divines, she was a beaten dog.

A wretched sob shook her form, something that made pain shoot through her body; but she tried to ignore it. It was pathetic, even after everything that had happened; she still wanted her father. To do what she used to do when she was hurting, run to him and weep in to his arms like a child that had scraped their knee.

But this was no bump on a knee that could be kissed better. Beaten and raped aren't exactly able to be mended by a fucking hug, but she didn't care. Right now all Karliah wanted was to be out of here, far away from that man and his clan. Into safe arms where no one could disturb her.

Were security and safety even an option for her anymore? As the Protector Of Cyrodil's youngest daughter; you would think she would be held closer to Hogvir Hearthfire than his gods' damn coin purse. So how did she end up here? Miles away from home, in some bandit chief's bed bent over and being used for the man's own pleasures? She needed her father to save her, she wanted him to still believe that she was still out there. Hurting, but still fighting away from a sudden death. And maybe the only reason her soul hadn't given in to defeat just yet was because she craved the moment when she would see him again, see the relief in her father's eyes- on her sister's face; when they would witness for themselves that her heart was still pounding. So she supposed that's what she was doing, She kept fighting for the sake of her family. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bad ending because I cut it off in the middle of a POV because it dragged on too long. I'll post the following in about a week or so? Depends.  
> Apologies for the bad typos! Hope you can forgive me for that.


	3. Here We Go Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back you unfortunate sluts, if you're reading this then that means you read the former chapter and still wanted to continue. Congrats you weird ass bitch, I love you.  
> ⚠⚠⚠⚠ THERE'S ATTEMPTED NONCON Y'ALL BEEN WARNED. You'd think Karliah couldn't get more unfortunate but bitch you is wrong.

At some period she had fallen back into slumber, she had managed to sob violently enough to tire herself out. The darkness that surrounded her when Borik was still in there slowly began to evanesce. Sunlight peeked through the cracks of the window shudders that were locked tightly on intent of keeping her there. Something inside of her hummed that the moment she opened her eyes; everything would be gone. She'd be home, and none of this would have happened. That it was all the a horrible, vivid, nightmare.

She supposed her conscious had a sense of humor when it came to getting her hopes up.

Instead she was slapped awake by cold damp hands the size of her face, her features scrunched up in disgust at the sensation before opening her eyes to peek at the man glancing down at her. Every fiber of her being told Karliah to fight, kick, squirm, scream. Anything that could buy her an extra minute. But she was just. . . Drained, it's as if the fighting spirit had completely evaporated from her body.

"Boss wants you, get up." Nothing about his sentence showed any gentleness nor kindness, not that she was surprised; she wasn't sure if anything these men did to her would be a complete shock anymore.

Karliah pulled her best impassive expression she could in such a position before hissing through her teeth. "I can't." She snapped curtly, something she felt as if she would pay for saying later down the road. The man glared down at her with dark brown eyes, adjusting his woolskin armor before huffing under his breath. He moved in closer, she could smell his rancid breath mixed with garlic and mead.

"You don't want to talk to me like that, you Hearthfire bitch."

His bulbous nose nearly touched hers with how close he had been before roughly pulling back. In different circumstances, she would have been startled to stillness at such crude language directed towards her. But dejectedly she had grown used to it. The man seemed to be blooming with irritation, pulling out his knife and sawing through the leather strip around her wrist that bounded her to the gods forsaken bedpost. Karliah found it hard to believe her broken arm managed to bend that high, it hurt like the seven hells when Borik forced it up and it would surely feel the same going down.

"The boss had a bit of fun with you didn't he?" The man laughed at his own comment, a disgusting sound that made her recoil in her skin. The Imperial man's gaze bore down on her to see her reaction to his words. She didn't say anything; Karliah didn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing her agitated. Finally he broke through the thick fibers, he didn't even think before forcing her arms down.

"Ah!" Crying out, the sudden wave of searing pain shocked through her joints and her vison went white. She halted her body from trembling with agony. The man had done it on the pure intention of seeing her in pain, she felt her face tinge red at the deep throb in her right arm. With gritting teeth, Karliah prepared herself for the imperial bandit to haul the Noble to her feet and force her to fend for herself.

"Jay. That's enough."

The marauder drew his arm back from her and jerked his head to the side, staring at a Redguard man who was lounging on the doorframe; his arms crossed as the bandit snarled his way. "Borik gave me the orders to take her to him, so I'm following orders." The man, Jay: retorted.

Karliah glanced over in alarm at the Redguard who released a sigh, straightening his back from the frame of the door and sauntering towards the two of them. Karliah didn't know whether or not to be grateful or terrified. "And I'm telling you that I'll take care of it. The last thing the boss wants is your hands anywhere near her."

Jay was clearly affronted by the man's choice of words, but he didn't respond with phrases nor any physical attacks. The Breton girl that still laid on the bed in silence felt more than relieved with Jay's cooperation, not that she believed the Redguard would be any more considerate.

The two outlaws locked gazes as the Imperial bandit shoved past the man with a few grumbles. The anonymous Redguard strolled over to where Karliah laid tensely on the hay filled mattress. He didn't say anything to her, instead he pulled a cherry colored potion from a pouch that was attached to his belt. She watched him suspiciously, up until he tossed the elixir on the cushion beside her. She could hear the liquid inside swish softly at the impact. "Drink it, you'll feel better."

Karliah hesitated, the last thing she wanted to do was swallow a mouthful of a potion a damn bandit gifted her with. But nowadays she didn't really have a choice when it came to being ordered around. She grasped the bottle with her good hand, straightening her back slightly so she could down the potion without nearly choking on it. The bottle was less than half way full so the result only subsided the pain in her arm to only an ache, but it was obvious the bone had broke. Her rib pains had completely left thankfully, but the cut on her face felt as if it had remained.

She sat up on the bed, wrapping her right arm around her torso in hopes to make herself smaller. She watched him move over to the large wooden cupboard on the other side of the room. Muttering a few things to himself before grasping an item of clothing inside. The man moved back over to her and tossed the fabric her way. "The boss wants you to wear this."

She just stared at it for a moment in silence before picking at the cloth to see what it looked like, it wasn't anything special, hell in her opinion it wasn't anything at all. It was hard to call it a dress, it was more of a slightly oversized tunic that Borik wanted her to prance around in. The fabric being a depressing shade of black with a tad bit of lacing here and there.

Karliah was a princess, used to corsets so tight you could break a rib, Necklaces that hung tight around your neck to wear every time you swallowed; you were overly-aware of the action, heels that blistered your feet if they were worn for too long, and dresses made out of scratchy material that was only lovely to look at - but intent on tripping her the whole blasted night. She was used to being wowed out for the sole purpose of pleasing others. To look desirable, to make her father proud of her. But this was a whole other level that she never wanted to experience. But again, did she even have the choice?

She couldn't help but bite her lip nervously, was this really going to be her life if her father gave up looking for her? Being come kind of servant for a band of untidy outlaws? "Thank you." She muttered somberly, letting the dress fall to her lap. "For helping me, I mean." She could never thank someone for throwing a wench's frock her way.

"It wasn't an act of kindness." He said flatly, the tone he had made her feel as if he had had no desire to assist her. "I only did what was right. And if I were you -I would avoid Jay. He has made it a habit to treat all women like rubbish." She had already assumed that, but it was good to be warned by someone about the dangers of this place.

When she weakly rose from the bed, he didn't seem to wait for her to get up, instead the man strolled over to the doorframe. "You can change in here, I'll stand out hither." The way the words had been spoken made her feel strained, this whole situation made her feel uncomfortable. But she still endured it, self-consciously eyeing the man's back as she slipped out of the dirty and ripped tunic attire she wore and into the fraught garment she had been "ordered" to model.

Marvelous, Borik was just trying to strip her of not just her damned smallclothes but her nobility as well.

She had managed to maneuver her wounded arm through the sleeve, Karliah had found it hard to believe that she had managed to put on the gown. It hugged her waist and chest -as if it was one size too small for her. She probably looked nice -sure. Nevertheless in a wench-like fashion, if her arm wasn't snapped she may have looked better. But Karliah didn't give a damn about looking presentable, she wanted to go back to Leyawiin. Crime or not, she had a better chance of surviving with the Watchers roaming the streets than she did with these men.

When she was fully dressed, (or as much as she could be) the aristocrat hesitantly stepped out into the halls where the bandit had been remaining tolerantly. He had said something about her taking too long before meandering down the narrow corridor, Karliah remembered these walls, remembered fleeing down them in an attempt to escape this horrid place for good, but it didn't grant her benefit

Suddenly these halls didn't seem as extended as the last time she had been down them, Karliah followed shortly behind the raider, His heavy steps echoed through the corridor, the clanking of the chainmail that hung from his boots pulled her from her thoughts that she was unintentionally relieved for.

But she wasn't appreciating such a thing when she reached her destination. Karliah could hear the chortling and ongoing conversations on the other side of the wooden entrance, it was obvious she didn't want to go in there; to get peculiar looks from others as she passed by, for any heed to be adverted towards her. All she wanted was to cower in a dark room and never come out.

"He's in the far back of the chamber, wish you prosperity." The monotone hidden in the empty statement; didn't make the situation any more tolerable. Neither did turning on his heel and sauntering back down the corridor without another word. Was he intent on avoiding Borik? The other outlaws? Or was she just that piteous? Divines, she didn't want to think any further, it just made her feel more ill about the shitty situation she was knee-deep in. Karliah took a much needed breath before warily unsealing the opening, stepping through.

There wasn't as many individuals as she had anticipated, she supposed that they hadn't learned how to control the volume of their tone; making it seem as if there was several dozens of men inside. Most of them seemed too invested in what they were saying to one another to notice her presence, Karliah was thankful; but still she ensnare some eyes as she sheepishly maneuvered through the tavern-like space.

Her amethyst eyes caught a glimpse of Borik on the far right of the room, at a rounded table with a thick book in his hands. It seemed to be the same one he had in his hands when she first woke from her slumber. It was odd seeing that he was capable of doing such a thing, let alone do something so mundane. She had began to believe that the man just sulked down the dark halls, shooting glares and bitter threats at his men. He had a peach colored bottle of mead beside him as he flipped to the next page, a white bandage secured around the bridge of his nose and the matching material wrapped around his right hand. Karliah found herself pondering whether or not she would be secure getting any closer to the man; whether or not people were around. For all she knew, he was a voyeuristic bastard.

Ultimately, he glanced up to meet her gaze, it seemed that the voices around her were drowned out by white noise. All she could see was that thick sadistic smirk that ghosted upon his lips only moments later. He dog-eared the page he had left off on before shutting the hardback and placing it on the wooden table, he gestured her to step forward. Out of terror her limbs made their own decision to tread hesitantly towards him.

He watched her every step, as if he was expecting the young woman to spin on her heel and sprint for the doors. By the planes of Oblivion, she wanted to. But the Breton knew how she was punished for that the first time, divines know what would happen if she endeavored an escape a second time.

She sat in the hard wooden chair across from him, a thick silence followed afterwards. Borik didn't seemed bothered by it, as oppose to being amused; a grin still stuck to his lips and it just appeared to develop. What would she say to him anyway? I am Karliah Jeane Hearthfire, the youngest born daughter of Hogvir Hearthfire; do as I say? That didn't benefit her the first time she spouted it, why would it now?

He grabbed a hold of his mead bottle, taking a large swig of the frothy liquid before setting it in front of the Breton. Unsurprisingly; the sneer had stayed. "Drink it." He demanded in a contemptuous tone. Her gaze moved from her lap to settle on the bottle. She hesitated, an impassive yet dismal stare on the colored glass. She supposed that her reluctance was beginning to bore him, Borik cleared his throat thickly as if to get her attention.

Looking up at him, his lips had forced themselves to an irritated line and his dark eyes seemed to burn into her skin. "I said drink it."

The tone he used made a small ball form in the center of her throat. With a trembling hand she reached out and seized the glass, it was room temperature to the touch. Bringing the bottle to her lips as the Nord watched her intently, Karliah didn't really know what he was getting out of this. Possibly he gained satisfaction by ordering others around -it wouldn't come as a shock to her.

The noble tipped the container forward, the mead tasted sweet, maybe a bit too sweet for her palette as she was used to the company of red wine. The honey seemed to have adapted to the warm weather around it -as well as settling to the bottom of the glass. The drink felt thick on it's way down -the alcohol burned the back of her gullet. She cleared her throat softly before setting it back on the table.

Whatever reason he had asked of that task, he appeared to have gotten something out of it. Leaning back into his chair with a gruntled smile, he crossed his arms over his broad chest before continuing the pointless conversation. "How is your arm?"

Karliah's lips parted softly at the question, instantaneously he is concerned about the damage he had done? Glancing down at her right arm that pressed itself safely underneath her chest, "Fine." She muttered bitterly, nevertheless the bandit chief didn't perceive the negative undertone in her voice. Instead he nodded.

"I will say, I didn't intend to toss you down those steps. But I suppose that it was necessary, under the consideration that you lack obedience." He must have been referring to the compress on both the bridge of his nose and wrist, slanting over to grab the bottle of mead, she watched in silence. It was for the best to just not respond; especially if she would just say something he wouldn't want to hear. "Come here, let me see the damage."

Her eyes widened at the choice of words, come here? Over by him? Did he think she had a fucking death wish? After everything he had done to her; the last thing she wanted to do was get any closer to him more than he had already constrained her to do so. When she didn't progress from her spot in the seat, his features morphed into a deep and unsettling frown. "I don't want to-"

The sentence couldn't even fully escape her lips, his fist came down hard on the timber table; rattling the surface. The unsettling noise echoed through the large space, the table shook at the unexpected force. Conversations hit a sudden halt at the bandit chief's outburst and eyes turned to them. The syllables died on her tongue and she was stunned to silence.

Glancing up from his hand that was still placed firmly on the wooden surface, she could feel his eyes on her; as if waiting for some type of response. "You will get up. . . And come here." The command was said in a gentle and steady tone, possibly to make up for the instant disturbance. Karliah bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling, blinking away the tears that slowly began to blur her sight.

The aristocrat stood up, prolonging the few moments before grabbing ahold of the chair and dragged it closer to the man. The eyes that once watched the two of them closely; averted back to one another and the conversations started up again. Quieter than they once were.

She sat back down, the air thicker than what it once was. Karliah couldn't look at him, even when he gently took her arm and inspected the damage. But there wasn't much to be seen regardless, just a large discolored bruise centered on her elbow that stung to the touch. It was swollen to a certain degree that would be considered concerning. He glanced up from the bone, catching looks at the bruises and scratches that littered her body. Karliah strived to disregard the growing smirk on his lips, keeping her eyes focused on the smallest imperfections in the timber.

He jerked her arm mildly, unfortunately it wasn't an accident. Rather he intended to get the noble girl's attention. She jumped in the seat before hissing softly, gritting her teeth at his careless actions. But his gaze of amusement made the Breton's expression weaken; mostly out of dismay. Borik hummed, she felt his thumb run over the bruise for the forth time; the intimacy was more than intolerable. Sadly she couldn't do anything about it, even as the Hand of the King's daughter.

She _couldn't_ do a fucking thing.

"Calder!" The chief's deep tone cut through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter, but she didn't react. Instead she glanced over at the several tables, watching a rather large Dark Elf peek over his Bosmer comrade's shoulder. A chunk of bread peeking through his lips.

"Yeah?" He didn't sound menaced by Borik like Karliah had expected, it honestly shocked her. It was either Borik wasn't as menacing as he made himself out to be or he was a kind person to the fellow bandits. If that was true, it really showed her place in this fort.

"Go fetch me some leather straps." He averted his gaze back to her, she didn't look down quick enough; he looked directly into her eyes. Karliah never knew that one stare could mean so much to her.

This was going to be her life now, wasn't it? Being some bandit chief's chew toy until her youth is no more? Wearing revealing dresses and being ordered around by Borik like she was some lapdog? Maybe they would kill her, realize that a princess isn't what they thought and slit her throat or feed her to wolves. The worst part of all this, was that the thought of dying was now comforting. . . And not horrifying like it once was only a week or so ago.

"I'm talking to you, Hearthfire." He retaliated, Karliah blinked before looking up to see the annoyance in his features. A bolt of fear shot through her gut when she realized that she had spaced out.

"I-I'm sorry." She whispered quickly, almost in panic. Her recoil seemed to have gotten a reaction out of him, an evil smile gnarled his lips before he patted her arm a bit too hard; making her wince.

"Hmph . . . Good." He said, but it didn't sound like it was good even to the most wild extent. Karliah swallowed, trying to ignore the empty hole in her stomach. Whether it was from hunger or terror; she didn't really know.

It seemed that whatever Borik was speaking about, he didn't want to repeat. As if he was just telling her that she wasn't listening to him to place panic inside of her. They sat in silence for a brief moment until that Dunmer bandit brought Borik what he had wanted. A bundle of leathers were dropped onto the table in front of them.

Karliah felt as if every second spent in front of this man was a goddamn eternity. His stares were from the oblivion planes itself, his words picked by the most cruelest Daedric lords. How could someone take so much from a person in a matter of days? She didn't know, all she knew was that his disgusting hands were touching her once again. Using the leather wraps to bind her broken arm.

Was this the types of things that happened in the world? Her father had never told her anything about this, she knew men and women were dying in North in the lands of Skyrim due to uprising of Forsworn and daft men with the names "Stormcloaks". That the Aldmeri Dominion was fighting for it's hold on the capitals of the Nine kingdoms, that was politics. But not this. This was something completely different, this was hell on Nirn; what Borik was doing.

He hooked the straps over her shoulder, leveling her broken arm. The soft movements sent a painful throb to her brain, but she didn't want to show the bandit chief that he was putting her in agony. For all she knew, he would apply more pressure for the fun of it.

Thankfully it didn't take long, Karliah managed to disappear into her mind and pretend she was anywhere but here. And Borik let her, he didn't pull her back to reality with any sharp pain or warn her to pay attention to what he was saying. She motioned her thoughts back to home, to how Blackwood was going on without her. The sun still shined and the citizens went on with their daily lives. The only thing that was different was the occasional missing poster and the Hearthfire family.

They were trying to look for her afterall, right? Her father wasn't just sitting down and twirling his thumbs while she was out here with her life on the line was he? He was a Nord, and from her experience; Nords did not give up without a fight. They are stubborn from birth, and family is the most important thing to them; they are bloodthirsty men and women, gods help these bandits if her family finds them.

But that was an if. A fucking if.

"We're done." Borik pulled his calloused fingers back and the Breton could have sighed in relief, his touch was like a vemenous snake and she wasn't sure when it would bite. Karliah scooted the seat back slightly and swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew he hadn't called her down here to bind up her arm he had broken. There had to be more meaning to this shitty afternoon. But she didn't question his authority, not knowing what type of response he would grant.

He rose from the wooden chair with a grunt, wrapping his hand around the mead bottle and looked down at her. "Go into the kitchen and clean up. Stay there, and I'll come and get you when I please." His tone was casual, she didn't say anything; instead she just listened to the sound of his footsteps get drowned out by conversation and he left her there without another word.

When the door shut behind him, she closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Karliah wasn't sure anymore if she was safer with or without Borik at her side in this blasted place, briskly; she lifted herself from the chair; a fuzzy feeling in the back of her head but she managed to ignore it. Heading to the door in the far left corner that she could only guess was the kitchen Borik spoke of.

This was surely going to be the end of her.

* * *

Several hours must have passed, the conversations that once rang in her ears even with cobblestone wall separating her from it; had begun to dull down. She could hardly hear anyone out that door, only the occasional gruff chortle. But all and all, the day had finally came to an ease. Karliah sighed with exasperation -rearranging the now clean metal tankards and steins for what must have been the fifth time. She had to do something, anything that didn't have to do with being solus with her pitiful contemplations. Anything that had to do with this place she was haplessly confined in because she had been foolishly seized; she didn't want to think about it.

Karliah, pulled the shift down that had been snaking up her thighs for the past several hours as she shook her head. The divines be damned if anyone thought she would stay any longer in this crowded kitchenette before being driven even more insane than she already was, surely Borik wouldn't mind her sitting down after cleaning the kitchen more than once over these few hours, would he?

Divines, here she was concerning herself in how he would respond to something she did without his permission. She was really living up to her title of lapdog, wasn't she?

If there was any light at the end of the tunnel it were merely that she had managed to ingest the few things she could get her hands on, though none of it ever seemed to be enough. She could already feel the difference on her form, how she was thinning out so rapidly. Karliah never really paid attention to how much her body truly relied on the things she got so effortlessly back home.

She opened the door to the exit the kitchen, feeling as if she could finally breath again. Even if the air out there smelled heavily of mead and sweat. With her left hand she proceeded to rake the hair from her eyes, red strands stringy and quite oily. She was surely due for a bath but of course Karliah wouldn't get one anytime soon. It was undeniable that the still healing wound on her cheek was suffering from that fact, infected with the dirt and muck that got into it. The thought alone made her grimace.

With a swift look around the tavern, she found it empty. Candles burnt out all except for one that laid upon on of the dozen rounded tables. There she saw a hardback book laying on the timber, Karliah could only guess that someone had left the novel there and forgot about it. Warily she stepped closer to the furniture, Hand placing itself upon the cover prior to grasping the volume and flicking through it's pages. Reading a few of the passages here and there - it was a breeze to be able to freshen her mind with light reading after so much corruption.

"What's the chief's little princess still doing up?"

At the sudden voice, the hair on the back of her neck stood up and the blood in her veins; froze. Her shoulders tensed as she slammed the book shut, dumping it back on the wooden surface before stepping back from the table, as if caught doing something she wasn't permitted to do. She looked over at the man standing casually in the archway of the door, picking the grime out from underneath his fingernails with his teeth. His prominent features being a dead giveaway that he was an Imperial. In fact she knew exactly who he was.

That man, Jay. The one who had roughly shook her awake that morning, said those rude things to her; not to mention he blatantly pulled on her broken bone as if it was nothing. Her lips parted as if she as prepared to speak but could not find the words. Karliah eyes narrowed to her feet; though she could feel his gaze washing over her. "Uhm. . ." She cleared her throat, thinking of something that she could say to the man as he shut the heavy door behind him. "Borik told me to stay down here until further notice." Her remark pronounced formally and for the love of the divines she tried her arduous to keep her chin high, and look like the "Pompous bitch" she was -well, in Borik's words that was.

"The boss has you using his first name, aye?" He eyed her closely, something that seeped into her bones and numbed her body to the point where she felt glued to the floor. For a moment the red haired girl hadn't even noticed the fact that she had used the bandit chief's name, and if it was not pointed out then she wouldn't have even noticed. The atmosphere in the room had only gotten thicker, as if the smell hadn't been enough; the weight of the unbearably tense air pressed down on the center of her chest.

"Indeed, he does. Now if you'll excuse me-" the words barely were able to slip from her lips before the Imperial outlaw had stepped forward to halt her actions of returning to the kitchen. Karliah skidded to a complete stop to halt herself from slamming into his form, her lips parted in bewilderment as she took a small step back. Her eyes groveled at his feet with her jaw clenched, had that ghoulish bandit sent this Imperial down here to taunt her? Perhaps he had been too occupied to do it himself. She would expect nothing less of the man. His hand planted itself down on the surface of the wooden table on his right, a movement that cornered her with her only route being through him. She swallowed thickly, daring to glance up at the man. 

"Where do you think you're going?" The inquiry was asked rancorously, his dark muddy eyes enslaved hers for a long course of time; the Breton made another venturous move to step back but her backside came in contact with the corner of one of the surrounding timber tables placed lamentably behind her. "Is the well-born girl needing to return to her chores? Well, I have a new task for you." 

At the tedious statement, Karliah's lips parted in alarm -she took his words as an immediate menace to her life. The Imperial advanced on her, hand reaching out to grasp her wounded arm positioned against her chest. If there was one thing on her side in these series of unfortunate events -it was that Borik's previous actions had enlightened her on what steps should be taken when placed into a timorous situation. She quickly escaped his attempt, hastily ducking as he launched. With wide eyes; she threw her hands at the surface of the table alongside her to grasp a forsaken metal stein that seemed to have a mouthful of ale remaining in it's contents. Without reluctance -she threw her left arm forward to bring the tankard down on the curve of his shoulder, she had miscalculated the defense of his hide armor. The metal hit the straps of fleece with enough force to allow a guttural shout to burst from the man's mouth, but not enough to cast him off balance as she had intended. His hand slapped itself over the trauma, surely something that would leave a bruise -he turned to face her with a gleam of fury in his gaze. Karliah crinkled her nose in anger as she threw the stein at the hide fauld over his form, the object hit him pitifully; crashing down to the stone floor with an obnoxious noise. "Get away from me." She snapped ominously, her hoarse voice wavered and tremored. Causing Jay to unleash a dark cackle.

His hand tightened to a fist upon his shoulder as his pale lips gnarled into a unsettling frown, shoulders hunched as he prepared to launch at her. Something Karliah perceived, taking a step back -only to slam into the edge of a wooden table. "Vapid bitch." He snarled, as the Noble dashed to her right -he raced forward to close off her route of solitude. His arm reaching out to clasp his fingers around her throat resentfully, the impact caused the girl to choke and cough -it was seen as a moment of leverage. Jay shoved her back in order to push her back onto the top of the table. 

She coughed, "let me go, you infamous bastard!" Karliah shouted hoarsely, her leg flying outwards in attempts to kick him anywhere her limbs would reach. The man released a disgruntled growl from his gullet, his fingers pressing deeper into the flesh of her throat. The Breton observed the intolerable sensation of her windpipe compressing in on itself under the pressure, her mouth opened to gasp; pressure building in the back of her eyes and her vison went white. 

He leaned forward to hiss into her ear,"by the divines, shut. The. Fuck -up." He seethed venomously, her foot slipped on the surface of the table falling down to smack against the feeble leg of the stand. Karliah gasped, her left hand flying up to his grip positioned around her neck to claw desperately at his fingers. Jay shifted, his weight pressed down on her broken arm; the white hot pain managed to shock her enough that she sobbed out -the sound breathless and pitiful enough that the man lessened to force of his grip, as he did not want to kill her. "Do you know that all of us know who you are? The little Hearthfire princess?" He enquired, Karliah gasped for much needed air -the heat in her face evading steadily. She tried to roll onto her side, expecting his spiteful attack to sate the appetite of hatred. She was proved incorrect when his bear-like hands unceremoniously dug into the dips of her knees to abruptly enforce her on her back, her ratty red hair dragged across her cheeks to block her blurred sight of the Imperial who bitterly jerked the aristocrat towards him -his torso raveled between her thighs.

 A stab of dread spread throughout her body and weighed down her stomach to where she felt as if she would throw up her insides, he did not frighten her as Borik did. And from his smaller stature she could only estimate that if she relentlessly struggled against him then surely she could manage to pull free. Confident in her notion, Karliah's left hand moved to push against his chest as her legs propelled violently at the back of his thighs. With a bitter snarl overtaking his mouth, he wordlessly caught her wrist between his strained fingers and pinned her arm against her mangled appendage. The movement sent a sharp pang through her limbs, the agony only soared deeper once he crushed her left arm against the right to suppress her moment. Karliah keened through clenched teeth, cursing all at once -only humoring the reaver before her. A disgusting chortle surpassed his lips as his free hand ventured down to the worn belt on his leather trousers, through the throbbing ache coursing through her arm -she wearily struck the back of his leg with her heel. The Imperial released a soft hiss, compressing her arm deeper onto her broken one -she sobbed out in a mixture of vexation and discomfort.

"-Meeting-" he continued after the mild interruption, his words seethed irately. "-one of the _Marvelous_  Great War hero's daughters in person? Comical." He pulled the leather belt from the looped of his trousers, heedlessly tugging her arms forward with a bruising grip; Karliah released a disgruntled groan at the dull throb that continued to run through her blood as he fastened the leather around her forearm to keep her from moving. And daunted from the notion of harming herself forward, she kept her arms motionless. She could feel the heat of tears welling up in her eyes, her jaw tremored. The stubborn part of her demanded that she defend her father's honor - for whatever it was worth in the center of this situation. Her glistening eyes danced across the dimly lit cobblestone walls, her mind racing; pleading to find some idea of ascendancy. "What good has he done you now, huh? You're just some wench in the chief's grasp."

Without another warning he belligerently ran his hands under the frock to grip her small garments, shifting them very carefully off the curve of her hips so he did not have to relocate her legs. As he had been made aware that if given influence then she would attempt to use it, Karliah pressed her tailbone into the rigid wood to halt him from his vile actions. This had already been witnessed through her eyes once before; only yesterday was she in this exact circumstance. "Stop." She beseeched, he vehemently ignored her. The Breton hammered her heel right above his calf, "I said stop!" Karliah snapped frantically. At her demand, she could feel his nails drive into her skin -muttering something under his breath that she couldn't make out. 

"Quit your bitching." He snarled, his fingers imprinting white marks into her hips. Karliah could feel a thin stream of tears cascade from the outer corner of her lilac colored eyes, a mewl of distress tremoring from her lips. "You'll probably like it."

"What do you think you're doing?" The familiar tone distributed through the darkened room, for the briefest moment Karliah found herself imploring the divines that when she blink away the tears blurring the colors around her; she'd see someone she cherished ready to sweep her away from this madness. Though not her father. By the eight, she couldn't even imagine putting the man through such a sight.

It must have finally flashed across the dense Imperial bandit's thoughts that doors have locks that don't bolt just by the mere thought, not to mention they were not the only souls inhabiting this old stronghold. He looked up to see the Nordic chief gloating from his place against the arch of the open door, arms crossed. Surely it was a menacing sight for the Imperial man, who had gone rigid. Karliah could not help but close her eyes and mutter a swift thanks to the divines when his hands were recoiled from her body, darting his pants to buckle the iron stud back up. Noticing the absence of his belt that was captivating the aristocrat's arms. 

"Borik!" He chuckled tensely as if this was nothing else but a lovely reunion. His hand flying up to scratch the back of his head as soon as the clasp of his trousers was fastened tight, deciding to pay no mind to his absent belt. "Good to see you, I was just-" 

"Unbind her, you cretin." The man interrupted him with the flick of his wrist as he pulled himself from the doorframe, a haste glare thrown at the Noble woman who was shamefully attempting to hide her appearance from him. Jay's jaw slammed shut as he nodded, his hands pushing forward to unbuckle the leather from her skin; she hissed softly at his rough conduct. Her lips forced to snarl until he unhanded her -pulling the belt back and slipping it around his waist. She could feel her face flush, pulling her small clothes up with her left hand. "You were just what? Did you think I would tolerate this? Or is that why you decided to fuck her behind my back?"

Karliah blinked, her blood running cold at the crude comment -the gods only knew how the Nord could inattentively spit out such words regardless what anyone else thought. She decided not to retaliate, her trembling hands shoving the dress down her legs before taking a glance over her shoulder at the two outlaws. Borik unsheathed his iron sword from the scabbard at his hip, the movement made a deep chill settle at the bottom of her gut. Her eyes widened at his bold movement, hesitantly pulling herself from the surface of the table, pressing her backside against the wood. All the Breton wanted to do was scamper through that bloody door, but she could not do such a thing as the bandit chief stood in her wake. Lack of courage and aspiration deteriorated that thought on the spot, rather; she dug her fingertips into the wood as the Imperial man stepped past her. 

Quaintly enough; she did not need to move -as the outlaw halted in his tracks at the sight of the Nord with his weapon drawn from his hip. "Her kind have no damn place here, she should get what she deserves." Jay retorted, confidence shone through his words but his eyes were filled with apprehension. The words shouldn't have gotten to her, but the scarlet haired girl could not help but ponder what she had personally done to deserve this treatment. Timorously; Karliah observed Borik with her head hanging low as he sulked steadily to the Imperial outlaw who was concealing his shrinking expression.

The chief's broadsword rode low in the his grip, the tip of the blade nearly rasping against the stone floor. "I said to leave it to me! It's time you learn your place you damn rat." The Nord jeered. The false look of enthusiasm had crumbled completely from Jay's features, oppression could be seen in his dark eyes while noting the hostile look about the Nordic man.

"There's no need for that, I don't think you would want to get in a sword fight with me anyhow." Jay warned in a wavering tone, it was evident that the man did not depend on his own words -something he seemed to be aware of as well. Borik had stepped past her, as if she was nothing more than the air around them. The Imperial took a brief step back towards the cobblestone wall, she pondered if the man felt the same way she had when Karliah had carried out the same action. And without skipping a beat; the scrote of a bandit attempted to round the tables to get to the door. But Borik seized him by the wolf fur that hung at the back of his armor, hauling the Imperial back. With wide lilac eyes; Karliah perceived with horror as the chief conducted his weapon to the man's throat.

"D-Don't!" She pleaded, something that even dazed Borik. His meaty arm held the Imperial close and his blade pressed against Jay's throat. She had good reason, didn't she? That Imperial man would not be in this situation at this very moment if it wasn't for his previous actions carried out. Her opinion should be respected as Jay's deeds were done solemnly on her and not the blasted bandit leader. Her hand reached out as if to stop the man, something came over her as she took a step towards Borik. Ignoring the fresh tears clinging to her skin, her breathing was heavy -her chest heaving and her hand tremored in the air. She couldn't have someone else die in front of her, not like the Dunmer merchant back in Blackwood. Everything seemed to have paused. Her eyes stared straight into Borik's, fearing if she looked away then he would kill the man. "Please." She sobbed, her words caught inside her throat. "What he did was to me, n-not to you. Just d-don't."

Karliah didn't know why she anticipated her words to penetrate his mind, under the consideration that he had not paid any concentration on her pleads the former day. Her respires came out in shaking chatters, she blinked away her tears. Swallowing thickly, Borik had still not moved the shortsword from the Imperial reaver's gullet -nor had he moved his appendages since she had beseeched for humaneness. Jay struggled in his grip, eyes wide and his mouth forced to a thin line. "You should listen to your whore, chief."

Borik ignored him, his eyes darkened with animalistic instincts -his grip was so intense that his fingers had lost their color. His gaze did not move from Karliah's tear-filled ones. He released a guttural growl, "then -you get over here and end his life yourself!"

The words had echoed inside of her head for a few moments before she could register exactly what the man had ordered for her to do. Jay had been the firrst to react to the command, releasing a curt chuckle -questioning whether or not the chief was serious. He grunted painfully seconds later as Borik hauled his forearm upwards to slam his limb against the Imperial's jaw to silence him. Karliah's eyes widened, shaking her head in protest, "no! I-"

"Then shut your goddamn mouth." He interrupted, seething the words through his lips. The noble did not get another moment to implore the man for a sign of compassion as he had dug the tip of the sharp blade into the Imperial man's throat. Jay released a discontented grunt at the piercing.

"W-Wait!" Karliah sputtered, and in a blind mind; she pulled herself towards the both of them with the pure intention of putting her palm over the rough handle to halt Borik from anything he mind regret -or at least anything she would dread to witness. He did not hesitate in his actions of brushing her off, with the iron pommel of his sword -he jerked his grip back to slam it on the aristocrat's cheekbone. She stumbled back and fell to the floor in a heap, her shoulder blades slamming into the table positioned behind her that toppled over on it's side. She whimpered in a disgruntled manner, her left arm immediately flying up to press her fingers over the damaged area; there was no doubt that the infliction would leave a large bruise. Not to mention the dull ache in her back from where she had collided with the table. Karliah looked up to see Borik who had taken no notice of her current position and in one swift movement -he had heaved the blade through the Imperial bandit's neck and had began to drag the blade through his throat, splitting the skin in two and leaving a gaping wound. 

Karliah's mouth opened wide and a blood curdling scream ripped from her throat as the gore expelled, spraying streaks and spatters across her face, clothes and the surrounding area. The man choked on his own blood. The Breton rose her left arm up in defense to shield herself from the blood that had already mark her appearance. She could feel the horrific sensation of the gore spattering onto the back of her arms, it wasn't the first time she had seen the light emit from someone's eyes -under the consideration that the Nordic marauder's favored way of murder seemed to be of cutting one's throat. Borik shoved him to the floor, miscalculating how close the Breton girl seemed to be; causing the Imperial to tumble to the cement -his head coming in contact with the top of her foot. Karliah bawled, her leg kicking back as she brought her arms closer to her range of sight as soon as she could see a small puddle of blood begin to clot on the floor before her -the man gurgling, choking on his own blood.

Karliah's legs trembled against her chest, her arm still leveled with her gaze; the taste of blood riddled her mouth -giving her the ungovernable urge to vomit, a sob escaped her mouth as her chest heaved. She couldn't dare to drop her arm, nor open her eyes to witness the body slowly growing quiet until there was nothing filling the chamber but her own snivels. Something inside her had coerced her into peeling her eyes open, heavily glimpsing at the crimson puddle stretching over the length of the floor; the tips of her toes grazing the gore -she sobbed. Kicking her feet back further until the curve of her back pressed against the leg leveler of the turned-over table. She could make out the lifeless body lying limp on he floor with his mousy head in her direction, her breath hitching in her throat at the sight before she released a short-lived scream; pulling her lilac eyes from the sight to cower into her knees.

The bandit chief seemed to be behaving as if butchering one of his men was similar to scratching an itch. Borik sheathed his sword at his hip, refusing to go through the inconvenience of scouring the blood off the broadsword with his gauntlets. The Nordic reaver who was currently on standby -rolled his eyes, but in a very short time the annoyance subsided and was substituted with infuriation. His dark eyes hardened at the sight of the quailing noble girl and he growled deeply, his upper lip twitched into a gnarled and unsettling frown, resembling a bile wolf ready to pounce. Borik sulked over to the High-born girl, his heavy boot treading through the thick blood discoloring the surface of the cement. He latched a bruising hold of her upper arm that she currently was using to shade her eyes from the horrific sight, he heaved the Breton to her feet in a moment's notice; she did not assist him in standing on her own two feet as she was in the midst of trying to cover her mouth to silence her cries. Her right leg slipped in the crimson puddle, Borik tightened his grip on the woman who only sobbed harder; hauling her upwards so she was relatively standing.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He demanded, she did not look at him -her eyes trained on his chest as her knees buckled under her weight. With a hot and sweaty hand, he grabbed the girl by the chin in order to force her to gape into his exasperating gaze. The tears welling from her eyes spilled at his rough movements and she whimpered, under his grip he could feel her rigid body trembling as she attempted to hold in her wretched sobs; her chest contracting with every breath. Her mouth squished together under his persistent grip, he was nearly spitting in anger. "You dull-witted Blue-blood, I told you to stay put and you can't even follow such lucid instructions?! Look at this mess!"

With the tips of his fingers, Borik attempted to force her chin down to perceive the Imperial's body laying motionless on the cold cement; her sob echoed off the walls at his movement and she resisted against the advancement. "I-I-I-" She hiccupped, swallowing thickly as her jaw trembled. "H-H-He j- _just_ -" She stammered, Borik forced her chin up once again, ignoring her pitiful attempts at speech; running his calloused thumb over her bruising cheekbone to swab the projected blood spatter settled excruciatingly close to the bags of her eyes. It seemed to only smear across her cheek, when the Nord pulled back -the Breton could see the large streak of crimson embodied on the crevices of his finger. " _Hah_. . .  _Ah_. . ."

Borik regarding the hysterical girl before him, her knees buckling once again underneath her weight; he tugged the noble back to her feet -this time taking a tough hold on her ratty scarlet locks from the back of her head to keep her from collapsing to the cement ground beneath them. "Stop crying. Just stop." He snarled, nose crinkling up in disgust it the situation he was in, Karliah nodded profusely -a violent hick escaping her mouth as she sniffled, the tears clouding her vision did not halt either. "Did you hear a word I spoke to you?"

At the wretched undertone, she pleaded the divines to grant her mercy and just allow her to open her mouth to speak without a sorrowful noise escaping her -giving Borik the impression that she was able to follow his command. Again, she nodded furiously; a strangled cough fleeing her throat. Karliah tried to crane her head down so she did not have to stare into the man's cold eyes for another moment, but he constrained her -forcing her head back up just in time for a few tears to cascade down her cheeks. "Speak!" He commanded, she swallowed her bawls and nodded once again.

"Y-Y-Yes." Karliah sobbed, he must have gotten what he wanted -whatever that must have been. Borik seized her by her hair with a persisting hold and pulled her upright. The was brief and sharp before he shoved the Breton towards the door. Muttering bitter words under his breath that could not be made out. She didn't resist, nor did she really have the strength to do so. With fear making her soul and body alike - it's home. She let him haul her out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's like either one or two parts left until chapter two is done and honestly chapter 3 is a whole ass bitch. That's if anyone reads that far. This is cringey as shit for me, continue with your day before you had ruined it with this piece of wtiting.


	4. The Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter makes me feel a little uncomfortable, not counting the last POV. Oooooh NOO ONE ASKED FOR THIS BUT ARENT YOU READY?  
>  ⚠⚠ MORE TRIGGER WARNINGS!⚠⚠

"I'd say Jay had it coming. Imperials are always too conceited for this life."

Karliah clenched the filthy rag in her fist as she hearkened to the discussions about the outlaw's ichor that had painted the tavern all night long. She made out the same splash of water strike the cobblestone floor as an Argonian man strived to douse out the scarlet hue from the stone with a bucket. But not even Kynareth herself could wash it out. Let alone the memories that whirled around her head like a damn hurricane.

She had been scrubbing the same part of this table for about five minutes straight.

Karliah drew back, setting the cloth on the wooden surface as she glanced over at the stream of water that briskly retreated to the rusty drain in the far right corner of the room. She had been shaken up all night and could hardly even doze, not that Jay being murdered in front of her made a immense influence on her resting schedule. She wouldn't sleep anyways, especially when Borik had forced her to rest in the bed with him. Divines, that could have been her single prospect to slit the man's throat. But the entire night she was too terrified to do so, she was too appalled to even move; that he would wake up and decide to punish her for disrupting his slumber.

Hell, she had been conditioned to tremble before that man. Though, she supposed that he had liberated her from Jay's vulgar actions; he hadn't done it for Karliah. He had done it solemnly to symbolize his dominance over her. That he could damage and defile her but no one else could, and the more she theorized it; the more the idea made her feel sick.

Why did he have to kill him? Of course Karliah herself had her own motives that were downright understandable, but the last thing she wanted was someone else to get their gullet slit before her eyes. By the divines, she could still feel Jay's blood on her. On the outside she looked fine for a woman imprisoned in an unfamiliar setting, she was able to smear the blood from her face and limbs overnight. But on the inside she was practically decomposing herself.

How could she live like this any longer? Would it be more tranquil to loose her humanity and emotions so she could no longer feel the numbing agony these ordeals had given her? Possibly that was the only way to truly shield herself from harm's way if no one else had the strength to do so.

She had put an end to counting how long she had been here ever since she first attempted to escape, how many days ago was that now? Three days? It was alarming how much could change in seventy two hours.

"Princess, I'm talking to you."

She jerked her head up from it's downright position, nimbly pulling herself from unnecessary thoughts and over to a Redguard man who stood in the archway of the door. Surprisingly she could drown out all other conversations and gossip echoing off the stone walls; but someone dubbing her 'princess' seizes her attention almost automatically. Thankfully it wasn't Borik, she couldn't even bare the thought of him anymore.

She looked up at the outlaw, she Karliah did not want to speak so she pleaded that eye contact would be enough for the bandit to know she was listening. Discussions swarming the chamber wilted lightly, the Redguard man gestured her towards the door. Saying in a bitter tone that Borik was demanding her company.

Her stomach felt as if it had hit the ground at the words, it was one of the last things that she desired to hear. truthfully, Karliah had been hoping Borik would just send her to this tavern and leave her there all night; not giving a damn on whether not she slept or ate. But it seemed that the bandit chief had nothing better to do than torment her for the amusement of it.

But she still nodded, she couldn't avoid the Nord. Karliah was always the one to give out commands, follow no one but her father and Count Jelben the 3rd. Nevertheless recently she had been downgraded to both a lapdog and a whore. With a light huff, she buffed any specks of dirt from the intolerable tunic that wrapped around her form before sulking towards the door.

Karliah could not comprehend how she thought her life was vacant before, this was downright dehumanizing. Of course back in the town of Leyawiin, her mother was still deceased and her father continued to grieve; that wasn't exactly the life she would die for. But this? This was so much worse than she could have envisioned, all those empty warnings of keeping an eye out for reavers and keeping herself defended and secure; never showed her how terrible this truly was.

She wanted her life back, to wake up and stroll into the dining area to be greeted by their housecarl Edna reading a book at the dining table. To have her sister Vennessa join them moments later, Karliah would do anything to hear her older sibling's voice again. Even if it was just her moaning about her bad night of sleep or a matter her significant other; Kyle had done that pissed her off. Have their father walk out dressed head-to-toe in his armor, thanking Edna for cooking for them and that he was going to go to the Sunglow Palace early. She would give anything to be able to hand him a piece of her sweetroll on the go as well as an idle hug. She would give _anything_ to be able to have something as mundane as a normal morning.

Not rouse to Borik wanting to dishonor her, not being a cruel man's play-toy. Not to be tossed around by his men, be considered as dirt. Not for people to die before her very eyes because of her own reckless actions. She just wanted. . .

It didn't take her long to reach Borik's chambers, especially with her being too invested in her own thoughts to even register that she was ambling to her destination. What did he even want with her? Honestly, she didn't want to know. By Mara's light, she didn't even care. After all he had done to her she was truly terrified of him. Nevertheless she had no willpower to be able to stop him when all she had was her mouth and two hands.

Or one, because Borik was keen on crippling her. Mind and body alike.

She lifted her left hand to knock, should she? Or should she just walk in? He would possibly punish her for entering without his say, possibly even punish her for being stupid enough to knock when he was expecting her any minute.

She settled for knocking, it gave her more time to prepare for seeing the bastard's face. See that revolting look of amusement when she looks away from him because she can't even bare the sight of him. How could one damn Nord be so. . . Immoral?

She heard his muffled tone from behind the thick oak wood telling her to come in. She could feel her heartbeat steadily rising and her gut twisting at what was to come. Nothing she would appreciate, she knew that much. Slowly, she opened the door. Taking breaths through her nose, Karliah felt a lessen in air. The kind of feeling you would get when someone you loathed came into the room, she could smell the heavy scent of sweat, something that made her skin crawl.

She saw the bandit chief in the left nook of the area, reading or writing, she wasn't certain. She was confident that the swelling in her chest and throat was going to cut off her breathing, the ball in her throat was thickening and surely she wouldn't be able to speak. Karliah only wanted to leave, to get out of this place and go home.

"I'm glad Grettin was able to find you." He stated in a relaxed manner, shutting his novel with an impassive expression. Although, Karliah stayed still, trying to make herself smaller and less perceptible. "You aren't going to be staying here much longer, a band of High Elves paid me a large sum to ship you to Summerset Isles."

"You're. . . vending me?" She whispered in incredulity, her first instinct was to show anger but from her past experiences with the man; she could only muster biting down on her bottom lip. Summerset Isles? That was across the Seven Kingdoms! Not to mention it was the base capital of the Aldmeri Dominion and home to the Altmer race. Suddenly, she didn't know what was worse. Being imprisoned here with Borik or being disposed of to an order of High Elves on the other side of Tamriel.

"Don't trying to manipulate me with your tears." He snapped angrily, Karliah hadn't even realized she had started crying. Tears cascading down to drip from her chin, his stern look made her force her gaze away and roughly try to wipe the tears that seemed to be perpetual. She swallowed the sobs abrading the back of her throat. "Step forward, Hearthfire."

Karliah clenched her quivering jaw, wanting to bark a menacing comment his way, reminding him of who her father was. But such a thing meant nothing to him, So she kept her mouth shut and slowly inched closer; warily stepping towards the belligerent man - close enough to see the thin wrinkles on the sides of his eyes. There was a glint in his eyes that she had never been able to make out, something that showed mirth. She knew what he was thinking, he was pondering how he could spend the time he had left with her. 

"It would be enjoyable to keep you here, considering your company is rather pleasant. But I came to an agreement with the buyers." 

How could he speak in such a relaxed manner about this?! Especially to her? She was the last person on Nirn who needed to listen to his bullshit excuse on why he was selling her to a circle of Altmer on the opposite side of the land. Was he doing this only to make her distressed? Did she even want to know?

"Though they will not be here for a few weeks, it takes a significant amount of time to travel from Cloudrest; sail the Abecean Sea and venture through the Great Forrest." He picked at the grime underneath his fingernails as he released his statement, her lips parted with shock.

"You're. . . You're actually serious." She whispered, almost inaudible to the older man's ears but due to the perceived silence; he was able to make the words out. He perked up, eyes glancing at her as he shifted in the wooden chair he lounged in.

"Stop muttering, say your words loud and clear." Was that a threat? Karliah wasn't exactly focusing on the tone of his voice as much as she was the pounding in her ears, though his grin was foul; something that began to twist in a repulsive smirk. Her eyes darted down to the floor, shuddering with the shake of her head.

"Why. . . Why are you doing this?" She spat out, trying to control her bitter undertone - she wasn't certain how he would react if he sense a bit of her surviving fighter's spirit. Nevertheless it was better than the actions she was playing out in her head; screaming and cursing the man out until her throat was raw. She was always well mannered and found more civilized ways to form her arguments, but this man brought the most outrageous thoughts out to play. If only she would act on them.

"It's shocking that you still feel the need to ask such questions" He sighed, he most likely thought he was being diligent with that statement. The grin he once bared began to subside, but the ghost of it lingered. 

"I did nothing to you!" She cried out, the tears that glossed over her eyes only made her seem more miserable to the man before her. She could almost feel the agitation and overall sorrow bubbling up in her stomach like angry acidic seething inside her organs, her face felt as if it was burning up and her hands were trembling. She wasn't sure if she was just angry or terrified, scared. All of it.

Was everything beginning to settle? Not just the defilement. All of it. The murder, the taunts, the pain, all of it. "Nothing." She hissed through her teeth, should she continue? If she did then she would frenzy, whether that meant tearing herself apart or trying to do so to him. Her left hand balled up into a fist as she exhale through her nose. When she stared at him, she could see the indolence towards her actions in his muddy eyes. 

"Stop talking." He commanded, no offense in his tone but that did not mean he spoke with sincerity. Borik grimaced shortly after noticing the look on her features. "Furthermore, stop crying. Before I give you a reason to."

She could have _laughed_ . "Reason?" She echoed, "give me a -reason?! YOU DEFILED ME YOU-"

"And I'll do it again if you don't shut you're goddamn mouth!" He outraged, slamming his fist on the surface of the table in attempt to startle her into silence; though he succeeded- it wasn't enough. Her body was tense and rigid like a damn board, Karliah was still trying to hold her ground; with her pathetic little name and that ungodly amount of pride her father had hammered into her pretty head. He rose from his chair, readying himself to hit her across the face or another unique way of showing the princess banditry first hand. 

It only took his sudden movements for the young Breton to start whimpering for air as the emotion swelling in her chest became too overbearing to ignore, her lungs felt as if they were burning a hole through the center of her torso. She couldn't really do anything but stand there and try to calm herself down. Karliah wasn't even sure if she could speak properly. When Borik noticed she was just going to stand there and sob till the sun went down, he took his time and began to sit down; as if coming to silent terms with himself that smacking some sense into a crying girl would not work out as efficiently as he hoped.

"Now if you're done with your outbursts; Get over here Hearthfire."

More orders, more! He was just getting a fucking kick out of this -wasn't he? Through tearful eyes it was almost crystal clear with that morbid grin hinting on his lips. It only grew when she stepped forward, inching closer and closer to the man. He seemed to have forgotten what was said between the two not even a minute before - it was evident that he couldn't care less. 

He set his elbow on the wooden table right beside him, looking the Breton up and down for a brief moment before resting his jaw on his knuckles. His tongue darted out to press against his bottom lip thoughtfully, he seemed deep in his maddening notions once again as Karliah stood by dreadfully. Somehow his silence seemed worse, meaning she had no idea what he was up to.

"Hmm. . ." He hummed softly, eyes snapping back into focus and Karliah's body went rigid at the sudden sound of his voice. She was almost certain that she would never grow accustom to the noise, she released a shaky exhale; blinking her sore eyes in hopes that the tears had finally came to a halt. "Strip."

His usual mousy brown eyes seemed to gleam with an eerie sun fire hue due to the lighting coming from the window; shudders open and sunlight poured in; only taunting her it seemed. Though, the color suited him - making his eyes gloat with the stare only a creature from the flames of Oblivion could bare. It took Karliah a moment to let his words sink in. But when they did her eyes might as well would have widened to the size of saucers. She gaped at the man for a moment, maybe in disbelief -most definitely horror. 

"N-n-"

"I said; strip."

His lips bent into a dissatisfied scowl, she noble pondered what his reaction would be if she denied him once more. She shifted her weight and her head lowered all while trying to make herself smaller to the Nord in front of her. How fortunate that the tears she had been able to ush back were building up steadily. Her arm moved to cradle her broken joint, "please j-just-"

"What hasn't gotten through that skull of yours?!" He barked, Karliah blinked furiously in a pitiful attempt to erase the tears from her eyes; instead they just cascaded to the inner corner of her eyes and began to stream down her face. "Take that tunic off. Now."

Surely the same outcome would be whether or not she removed the clothing from her body, but for a brief moment her mind raced and she contemplated all of the creative and horrid things the outlaw would do in order to discipline her for disobeying. Possibilities seeming endless and each worst than the last, divines; if someone like her were able to enter the mind of a sadistic monster - she couldn't begin to imagine what he could boil up. 

A hic slipped through Karliah's lips as her left hand hesitantly traced up to the clothing pressed to her shoulder, her legs trembling beneath her; her body felt like lead and her bottom lip was quivering violently. It took a moment for her fingers to gnarl around the piece of clothing, and with every joint and cell in her body fighting her back; she inched the strap down her arm. Though even fate wanted to put this to a stop, the leathers bound around her arm and all the way up to her collar bone halted any further movement. Karliah sobbed, not wanting to show any struggle; dreading what Borik might do; she began to focus on the mirrored strap. Slipping it down her arm until the silk binds supporting her breasts could be perceived by the man.

Her hair was resembling a curtain in front of her face, mercifully the red locks were able to disguise the shameful look overtaking her features and the overall pained look of it all. Enough time had passed for the man to realize that she was just tugging on the article of clothing due to the binds she could not go around. He huffed in annoyance, surely having better things to do than just watch her for millennial; he pulled himself from the stiff wooden chair and made his way over to her.

Karliah couldn't hear the footsteps approaching her over the constant throb pounding in her ears, making his quick movements an even bigger shock than it would have been if she was paying any ounce of attention. He forced her left arm back at her side, grabbing her chin and compelling it upwards as well as swatting the ratty hair from her features. She trembled, her entire form opposing back the wretched noises yearning to escape her lips. Fearfully, her lilac eyes observing as he retracted his hand and ventured down to his belt to unsheathe his weapon resting at his hip.

At the sight of the familiar broadsword he had only used the night before to cut the throat of that Imperial man who had attempted the very thing Borik was keen on doing to her at this exact evening. A stab of fear buried itself in her gut, Karliah winced and tried to twist away; the action was very short-lived and aided her very little as the Nord merely clasped his free hand around her shoulder to keep her still. The man muttered insolent words under his breath before slicing through the neck-line as well as the silk brassiere with no inconvenience on his side.

The material fell in a heap to her waist, before falling further to gather around her feet. The rush of cold air ran over her skin and she shuddered, the tears in her eyes growing more and more evident until her sight was nothing more than a blur and she couldn't make out the man in front of her and what his expression showed. But he seemed to have no issues in voicing it; releasing a contented groan before granting his hands access to run his finger tips in the dips and curves of her chest.

With a well deserved snivel, the tears continued to stream down her cheeks and she sobbed. His hand traveled to the curve of her neck to seize the noble by her hair and force her head to it's side. His mouth began to nip and bite at the skin on her neck, Karliah closed her eyes and ignored the wet and slobbery feeling and travelled through her mind. Contemplating whether or not being hauled off to the Summerset Isles was a better aim than staying here with this man.

* * *

Shadow brushed the light brown hair from his emerald eyes as he painfully squinted at the small writing on the thinning scroll before him. Still even after he had double-checked the same parchment for over a half an hour; it was all dull information that he couldn't go on. With a frustrated exhale, he shook his head. Picking up his quill and jotting down the bit of information he did know about this damned task, only adding to his own uncertainty.

By Nocturnal, he only knew as much as the rest of Blackwood. The contrast with his situation was: he was being paid to sought out Karliah Jeane Hearthfire. The Nordic man shouldn't have just presumed this task to be a breeze.

"You look like I just kicked your ass. What's wrong with you?"

Shadow twisted his head to the side, only to see his Guildmaster prowling over to the table he had been slumped over pitifully for the past hour. He set his quill down on the table, a drip of the black ink dribbled onto the polished wood. The emerald eyed Nord didn't notice. "Nothing, Crimson." He muttered bitterly, specifically when the man's name surpassed his lips. "Go away. I'm working."

"You're _drinking_." The Guildmaster pointed out as a matter of fact, referring to the three vacant mead bottles that were settled away from the piles of paperwork. Crimson let out a disgruntled sigh as he took a seat in the chair alongside his Second in Command, dark brown eyes scanning over the table. Leaping from document to document. "Did the Gray Fox give you this project? I don't remember anything this complex."

"It's not," Shadow retorted. The Guildmaster by some means looked gruntled with his distress. "It's the missing reports, a personal job."

"From who? Your fairy godmother?" Crimson scoffed, taking it as a chance to snatch one of the remaining mead bottles off the wooden surface that still had a bit of liquid in it before leaning back in the chair he was in. Stressing the back wooden legs under his weight. "The last time you had a 'personal job', you found yourself barricaded in a skooma warehouse full of shit."

"It was dirt." Shadow sullenly reminded while hurtling a snarl at the older man, "are you trying to agitate me? Someone's life is in my hands at this very moment, stop shitting around." He supposed that was the kindest way he could have worded it, the green eyed man would have loved to joke around with the Guildmaster until sunrise and to have the cycle repeat itself. But now was just not the time.

"Humor me then," Crimson folded his hands on top of the wooden table. Brown eyes fixated on the thief in front of him. "Who are you looking for?"

Shadow frowned at him, the once fun-loving simper that dominated the man's lips was now a thin line. He glimpsed back down at the parchment before him. "I was contacted by Count Jelben." He started calmly, the man reckoned he would witness Crimson burst into hysterical laughter. Rather, he just heard a soft "mph" surpass the guildmaster's lips; The expression did not change.

"Jelben? Contact you? The Shadow Of Cyrodiil?" There it was, the look of amusement overtaking the Nord's features as he released a scoff. "The only thing he wants from you is your head. We're thieves. The law doesn't partially enjoy our company." Crimson ran his hand through his loose ebony locks. "Fine, who are you looking for?"

"Karliah Jeane Hearthfire." Shadow said.

The Guildmaster rose a thick eyebrow, his lips that had began to curve moments before; only seemed to tremor and fall into that serious scowl. One of the man's signature looks that made him look more dangerous than an armored Saber Cat. "Your telling me you took the job?" He asked in a tedious and grave tone, Shadow wasn't sure how he went from his sarcastic mood to this so quickly. "To find the daughter of the man that wants both of our heads on a silver platter?"

"Hogvir Hearthfire doesn't know that the King asked this of me. As I said; personal." He stared down at the papers that were scattered around the circular table. The ink letters were starting to fade, was it just him? Maybe it was a reminder from the divines to take this task with earnest responsibility, that time was precious.  

"Personal, yeah right." Crimson finished the last bit of mead from the glass bottle, setting it on top of one of the many papers; as if it was a petty sign that he couldn't give two shits about these documents. Shadow glared at him for that act, his hand hastily reaching out to snatch the container and set it with the rest. "How much is the Royal bastard paying you for this? Enough to turn your head to mush?" The raven haired man laughed bit at his own comment, "or are you hoping for a favor?"

Shadow's brows furrowed in both confusion and exasperation, "what in Oblivion are you talking about? What favor?" His expression did not falter, even when he perceived the man letting go of another chortle; shaking his head in the process. The emerald eyed Nord didn't understand what Crimson found so humorous about this situation.

"When you _rescue_ the youngest daughter of the Hearthfire family. Are you wanting her to owe you a favor? Be so grateful that she'll blithely open her legs for you?"

"You're fucking gruesome, you know that?" Crimson laughed at the Nord's reaction. "And I don't want any _favors_. The Count is just paying me to locate her, and that's it." He folded his hands, locking eyes with the man that sat beside him.

"How much is he funding you?"

"Ten thousand septims."

"I'll help you."

Shadow sighed in a scornful manner, but soon a light smile curled his lips at the Guildmaster's change of heart. "That was surprisingly quick. . ." He muttered, picking up his quill and beginning to scrawl. Crimson shrugged, as if it was to be expected. "What? You want a cut? At the end of every month you take a portion of my commission from the guild. I think you're fine."

"You're not going to find the High-Born all on your own and you know it. If the imperial Guard can't find her in under a couple fortnights; your smartass doesn't have a chance in Oblivion." The Master thief began to tap his index finger on the wooden surface, "but of course I'll want some of the spoils. Especially if I'm rescuing Karliah fucking Hearthfire. She isn't exactly on my list of favored people."

"Fine." Shadow interrupted the man, wanting to hear no more about it. "You know what? Why don't you go through these reports and see if anything strikes out of the ordinary. I need to go find Silent and check up on my sister." Without another word, the Second In Command rose from the wooden seat and sauntered towards the Guildmaster headquarters.

"So you're going to throw all your shit at me to take care of?" Crimson called out to the Nord with a blossoming lour on his lips, he heard him call out from the space he had put between them in the sanctuary.

"You said you wanted to help, didn't you?"

The ebony haired man snarled as Shadow disappeared from view, he grasped one of the many scrolls from the table and released a sigh of exasperation. If it was for the septims then he supposed this could be condemned, but he didn't like it one bit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay then following chapter will be at last not as cringy as this shit as this was the end of original chapter 2. Stay tuned or whatever.


	5. Blood and Mud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lookie here is this another chapter? Yes, unfortunately it is. WhO ASKED FOR THIS? No one, but you're getting it anyways.  
> Not really any trigger warnings behinds mentions of coercion, I kinda like these two POVs? This is part one of 3 of chapter three.  
> Enjoy!

"Be careful, or you'll hurt yourself."

Her eyes stayed fixated on the orange vegetable in front of her, she supposed that she was cutting rapidly; nevertheless Borik was only adding his snide comments to torment her. She had been here for two months, maybe more. Time was becoming a trifle to her. It was just night and daylight over and over again. A considerable amount of the outlaws would leave to pillage nearby campers and hunters miles away, bringing captives back; only to end their lives hours later. Karliah Hearthfire had nearly grown accustom to it. Used to the vile things these men did for entertainment.

Not to sustain themselves. For fun. 

"Don't get too comfy here." Borik crooned, she didn't know why he was keeping an eye on her anyhow. There were plenty of discussions sprouting in the room behind him, why he would want to lounge against a wooden doorframe and watch her slice up veggies to toss into the pot over the fire; was beyond her. "You only got a few days or so until those Altmer men arrive and ship you to the Summerset Isles."

Karliah paused the movement of the weapon, the sharp edges of the combat blade kissed the wooden board. Sighing faintly, her eyes stayed glued to the dagger in her hands. She could kill him, be rid of this place and go home. 

Divines, if she did; would her family even recognize her?

"Why are you telling me this, again?" Her bold question was stated in a hoarse whisper, he must have repeated these explicit words to her a dozen times up to now. Borik had been reminding her relentlessly since the day he informed her she would be leaving, and he didn't seem keen on stopping anytime soon.

He let a dim 'hmph' escape his lips. "I would have thought being here for over two months; you would learn how to keep your mouth shut, but I suppose I was mistaken." The crude words had Karliah biting the inside of her cheek. Of course the statement was uncalled for, though he did have a point. She was just making these situations more dire every time she retaliated. "I also thought giving your arm all this time to heal, you would be able to move it by now."

Karliah didn't respond, instead she continued to cut the carrots before her. Her joint may have been improving by now if he would just let it mend, being hurled to the floorboards wasn't exactly treating the bone thoroughly. But informing the bandit chief authentic facts would most likely earn her some sort of penance she wanted nothing to do with. So still, her arm burrowed itself under her chest just as it had for over two months. Her restoration magic was pitiful at it's best, she shouldn't even think about trying to mend the bone herself; she'd surely end up making it worse. 

In the brief moments of silence, Karliah couldn't help but allow her mind to wander; somehow Bishop appeared inside of her contemplations. Karliah pondered, if after she had gone missing; he simply left without staying to see if she would ever return. Karliah contemplated how likely it was that at this exact moment while she was reluctantly cooking for a man who took everything from her; he was resting in a warm rental bed in one of the many taverns inside of the Imperial City, the capital of Cyrodiil. 

Why would he linger for her in any case? By the divines; all he had desired since she had made his acquaintance was to leave the town of Leyawiin and never look back. 

Being too deep in her thoughts, the blade slipped and she sliced open the edge of her index finger. A deep hiss escaped her only a moment later as droplets of blood planted itself on the cutting board; verging on staining the carrots. She drew her hand back from the blade, the dagger clattered onto the counter as she stuck her finger inside her mouth. From the arch of the doorway she heard Borik let go of a exasperated sigh. 

"You stupid girl, didn't you hear me warn you?" Karliah couldn't understand why he sounded so agitated when she was the one bleeding, the coppery taste in her mouth didn't seem to fade away either; out of curiosity her tongue ran over the wound delicately. It didn't seem too deep, she definitely had had worse. Under the consideration that her cheek wasn't exactly mending all that well.

Fortunately the Nordic man did not stride any closer to her, instead he shook his head with a chortle at her actions. "Just hurry up with the task I gave you, or next time you won't be the one cutting yourself."

Threat, definitely a threat. She nodded pathetically, finger still in her mouth. Peering over her shoulder -she watched him unfold his arms and turn around, stepping outside of the kitchenette. With his haunting presence absent, she felt like she could breath once again. Even if she was under a time limit, it was much more relieving to not have his gaze burning a hole into her spine. She drew her finger from her mouth and wiping the gloss of spit on the rag-sewn dress that had replaced the tunic Borik had torn from her body. For a moment she observed the small wound. Watching as the pink sliver slowly filled with blood once again. 

That bastard of a bandit would notice blood in his soup anyway.

She grabbed the wooden board and dumped the vegetables into the rusty pot, the water bubbled and gurgled as the food splashed into it. Karliah moved back and set the board on the filthy counter, her expression still hadn't changed from it's somber one when Borik was still in the room. He may be gone now but she knew in approximately fifteen minutes, he would be back to taunt her. 

Karliah grasped the chopped venison from the counter with her bare hand and tossed it in as well before wiping her hand on the nearby rag. Blood stained the material but the noble couldn't find it in herself to care; not that she truly noticed anyhow. 

She was like a walking zombie from those old storybooks she had read out of, divines know how much could occur in a day; let alone the ten weeks she had been imprisoned in this stronghold. Karliah had the luxury of looking in the mirror a few days ago, and she knew something had been wrong when she didn't recognize the young woman staring back at her.

Bloodshot violet eyes had met with hers, dark circles sunk deep into the flesh underneath her eyes. Her skin had always been bright and soft, like porcelain. By any means it had gained a grey hue, like an ancient vampire; making the circles under her eyes an evident dark blue, possibly even purple. Her cheeks were sinking in, something that didn't really shock her from how little she was eating. Her lips were cracked, dry, bruised and swollen as well. 

Not to mention that cut, the ugly jagged line that ran deep across the side of her face. On the edges of the lesion it was still puffy, an angry red from the lack of cleanliness. It was healing, though not well. Nasty welts that attempted to bound her skin back together. 

She had looked. . . Exactly like how she felt. So many negative words that had swirled around her head. Used, worthless, waste, you name it. The only goddamn thing holding her fragile body together was the last shred of hope that her family would discover her and bring her back home before it was too late.

With a weak sigh, she glanced over at the cauldron that hung tediously close to the angry flames. The boiling water began to foam, swiftly she grabbed the nearest mittens and pulled it off the pothanger and onto the heavy table to the right of her. The heat quickly warmed the material as she set the pot down on the surface with a exasperated exhale, tossing the mits on table beside it. 

She was done right? Borik wouldn't let her eat the same food as him as long as he was still breathing. She had dished it out, noting the slight discoloration in the meat. She was a princess not a damn gourmet, Karliah didn't know what she was expecting when either a professional or her housecarl back at home would cook for her. Karliah could hardly dice the food in front of her, no wonder she had harmed herself.

She stood there for a bit, staring at nothing until a disapproving grunt from the doorframe pulled her back to this sickening reality. Her head twisted around to glance over her shoulder at Borik who was glaring in her direction. "You better be done."

". . . I am."

"Then what's taking you so long?"

She didn't reply, rather Karliah took the same dusty rag she used to wipe her hands; picking up the hot bowl and warily stepped closer to him. A large ball began to form in her throat at the compact amount of space between the two of them. His dark gaze trailed her as she proceeded, some sort of ghoulish amusement in them at her discomfort. 

Only a few more days and she'd be gone. Karliah found herself asking whether or not it would be more tolerable being trapped in the Summerset isles than with this poor excuse for a man and the rest of the reavers. Perhaps that truly was a sign that something was wrong.

 By the gates of Oblivion, she did not need a signal to know that all of this was in error.

Karliah didn't recollect the time fly by but in an instant she had already set the blasted dish on the wooden surface in the far right corner of the chamber. Borik was nearly breathing down her neck up until she stepped aside and gave the man room to sit down. She looked away, pupils glued to the blackening ceiling above them; anything to keep her occupied. 

"Sit down." 

She jerked her gaze over to the aggravated marauder. How could she even force herself to make up a response to that? By air means or foul; she found her body subconsciously following his instructions, possibly she had really adapted to the treatment she was getting here. Karliah collapsed into the seat beside him, her shoulders were hunching and the rest of her body was tense and rigid. 

Her amethyst eyes glared daggers into the side of his face as he glanced down at the bowl in front of him. She could feel her jaw tighten, grinding her teeth ever so softly as he picked up the pewter spoon and dumped it in the steaming broth.

Of course, eat your goddamn soup; you bastard. 

* * *

Sky blue eyes seemed to be stirred dull from sleepless nights and restless thoughts, the man stepped into the dimly lit room on the far end of the Sunglow palace; and as per usual with the court wizard - you couldn't step into the woman's chambers without an ear splitting explosion or witnessing some demonic creature being locked up in a summoned cage, positioned in the midst of the room. Hogvir treaded lightly for the exact reason, brushing his already messy and ratty hair from his eyesight as he stepped through the arch of the doorframe.

"Oh what do you mean you can't talk anymore you dunce?!" The woman snapped curtly at the skeever that coward on the floor right in front of the robed woman, "you and you shapeshifters with your slimy ways! Just shift into another animal that still has a gullet! I demand you to speak at once or I'll set that matted fur to flames!"

At the witch's menace, the animal seemed to squeak in protest; nothing human nor said in their native tongue. She huffed in annoyance at the creature, the slight shake of her head followed after. "You defiled creature, I teleported to Solsthiem for a brief moment and you have the nerve to go at my neck. Well you'll have another thing coming you imbecillic rat!" Straining her fingers - she focused the palm of her hand at the animal before a white light erupted from her grip to illuminated the room for a brief period. 

And with that, the room darkened once again and the shapeshifter was gone.

Ulna sighed in exasperation, her hand falling back to her side. She took a step towards the door before looking up to see the Hand of the King staring at her with slight confusion hidden in his eyes, she squeaked in surprise with a slight jump backwards when she realized the Nord had most likely been there for the rather odd scene she had with that Skeever. 

"Oh milord! Don't worry! I didn't kill the thing; I just sent it to plummet far into the Sea of Ghosts! No harm done I'm sure! It will most likely just shapeshift into a Slaughterfish. . ." She laughed sheepishly to herself, the look of incertitude slowly deteriorated from the man's features. He didn't have the blasted energy to be concerned with what the Imperial woman was doing in her free time, as long as the palace and her quarters were to stay as one; he didn't need to fret. 

"Oh by mara's light!" The words came out as a harsh whisper, her hands rose in order to brush her dark hood from her head to expose her golden hair, unusual eyes staring right at him yet not meeting his gaze. "Hogvir, sire; you're not. . . Are you feeling well? Your aura is-" she briefly closed her eyes before taking a step towards the man who still stood uncomfortably in the doorway due to the quick change in conversation.

"You and you superstitions, Ulna; I don't know what you see but I'm doing perfectly fine." He brushed the Imperial's words off as if they were merely flies buzzing in his reach, stepping into the wide room to peer around more efficiently. The lack of sunlight coming from the windows that were covered with a large and thick cloth; was made up well with the glowing soul gems on the wooden shelves that lined the walls, along with glaring liquids in glass bottles, even the enchantment table itself had a glowing symbol on the surface that gave off more light than the melting candles on top of it. "The evidence, I am here for what you gathered."

Her expression was filled with great remorse even after he had attempted to change the conversation; eyes lingering on his form, her tinted red lips parted for a brief moment before she spun on her heel to scamper to a narrow table opposite of the alchemy table. "Yes, yes the evidence!" She meeked out, "of your daughter; I know I have it around here somewhere. I just note down a lot of documents - you see." She cleared her throat, Ulna was not one to lie; and she sure as hell wasn't jesting with the facts. Papers were scattered on the floor only moments later as she began to toss them aimlessly over her head from the wooden surface they were once stockpiled onto. "So so many things to remember when it comes to the arcane arts! If only I had two brains in one head, don't you think?" 

Hogvir let the woman ramble, as so - he began to stroll over to the small potion brewing lab that was on the other side of the room. Opposite of where the Court wizard kept herself occupied. Anything would do well as a distraction; even the odd things Ulna would speak about were enough to interest the exasperated Nord at this point. 

He was fed up with his men complained about being exhausted from the constant searching of the providence; that there just weren't enough men to cover the large mass of land that was Cyrodiil. That if this situation was as dire as it was then maybe the Imperial City would need to be contacted to put out a full official search of the region.

The Hand of the King couldn't take all of this . . . Waiting, nearly two months had passed since his young daughter had merely disappeared from inside the city walls. It seemed that the lot of them were still stumped and couldn't find anymore solid evidence of where she could have went, hell; with the amount of time the noble girl had been gone. . . She could be-

"Ah, here it is!" She exclaimed, Her hands flying in the air, clasped to a thick ledger of some sort. Ulna turned around once again to face the Nordic man; the enthusiastic grin that had been plastered to her face began to crumble when facing his presence. The court wizard had always been an odd woman; ever since he had stepped a foot inside this city - she always seemed to know exactly what he was feeling before it was even spoken from his lips. Let alone thought in his own mind. "Yes, there is a lot of information written down here. I took it upon myself to do a bit of traveling in order to get the -perfect!" 

Her interuption of the words flying from her mouth was enough to startle him, though her gaze had been averted to the pages in her grip. "Oh dear. . . Maybe not so, sire have you seen Rodr? He assisted me in lettering these notes and it seems he had misspellings."

"Ulna we are in the middle of-"

"Tch, yes I apologize." She freed her right hand from the parchment to brush the blonde curls from her sight, eyes lifting briefly to stare up at him warily. The man couldn't pinpoint exactly what her gaze was filled with. Fear? Empathy? For all he knew it was a mixture of both with much more. 

"What?" Hogvir had finally gathered the courage to question the Imperial's distressing gaze, she glanced back down at the scroll; concealing her suspicions by hiding her gaze in the letters and not replying. "If you need to say something, then I advise you to speak."

The woman shook her head, her hand moving up to rest on her bottom lip as if she was deep in thought. Or at least putting up a masquarade of such. Ulna's sunset eyes lowered to focus on the parchment for a brief moment before moving back up; realizing the man was still staring at her.

She sighed, swallowing thickly as the man rose a prominent eyebrow. Creeping away from the odd enchantment table and closer to the desk on the other side of the room where she stood. "As I said before, sire. . . Your arua, it is black; very very dark. . . I haven't seen it like this for. . . fifteen years."

Fifteen years she said, yes. That was right, the month of Heartfire had passed. It was no longer fourteen years since Karliah had been born and their mother; his wife Jennadeen - had passed away. How many days had passed since his daughter's fifteenth winter? Only a week, he hadn't even realized the days roll by; he had been so engrossed in work and relentlessly trying to make sense of the situation that the Nord didn't realize. 

So what Ulna was saying is that the last time his aura looked like this; his wife had just died. 

He supposed she had her reasons to say such a thing, after Jenna had passed; Ulna proved herself useful by providing elixirs to level his mood. It had all been Count Jelben's idea to do such a thing. That Hogvir wouldn't be able to protect his daughters and continue living his life if he would constantly let the memories of his wife haunt him. The Imperial woman had even offered to bargian with a dremora being to see if he could speak to his recently deceased wife to get some closure.

Though he was tempted; beyond tempted. He declined. 

"Sire." The sorceress softened her tone, folding the parchment in her grip as she inched closer to the man. "Would you like the potion of merry? I'm sure you would be able to focus much more efficiently with it."

Hogvir didn't skip a beat; shaking his head at the words. "I am fine." He spoke, and possibly one day - if he said the words clear enough then he'd start believing them. "I am just here to see what you have gathered about Karliah's disapearance. My . . . My aura, has nothing to do wih this."

"Yes, yes you are right. I'm sorry." The woman cleared her throat, looking away from him and his blasted aura to unfold the ledger. "I didn't get as much information as I would deem necessary, but the details are still - interesting to say the least."

"I'm listening." And indeed he was, he rounded the woman to take a seat on the bench set in the center of the dimmed room.

"Ah, yes. I had ruled out the Watchers guild as any sourt of suspect." She stated, glancing up from the parchment to see the man's impassive expression shape into one of slight astonishment, She knew that fact would come as a shocked to him - Ulna continued before he could voice any opinion on the matter. "Taking into consideration that the band of thieves seem to heavily value stealth, nor have they ever stepped out of line to attack someone; especially a noble. Karliah's situation is much too messy to be of a Watcher." The words were voiced carfully, as the Hand of the King despised ever considering the criminals as anything but scum of Nirn. 

"How is that?"

"None of her valuables were taken from the scene, such as your weapon which - to be fair; is no ordinary dagger. The metal is pure silver as well as the handle being handled by the castle blacksmith himself. It would fetch a very nice price, no thief would be able to resist."

"So you are ruling out the very group of scum that despise my family and all it's worth; becuase my weapon was left behind?"

"Precisely." 

His lips parted to retort, that such a claim was beyond ridiculous and there were no other known lawbreakers sulking around Blackwood. But almost as if the Imperial woman was inside his skull, she shushed the Nordic man and gazed back at the writing. Eyes flashing like a newly casted mage light before her eyes darted back to meet his eager ones. "I nearly had forgotten, oh dear! Hogvir I am deeply sorry. A few days ago I had tried to search for your young daughter with Mara's blessing."

Well this was surprisingly knew, it was partially different from the outrageous ways she would usually resolve problems. He rested his elbows upon his thighs as he leaned forward in an intrigued manner, "continue." He ordered, but did Hogvir truly want her to? With the many things Ulna was proven capable of; she could spit out his daughter's very location and the deepest details. Or inform him that she had collapsed dead in a dark room with no hope of ever returning home. 

"I jotted the exact words down somewhere on this ledger. Please give me one moment sire, I'll just - oh there it is!" A quick laugh bubbled from her throat, it gave the man hope that maybe the information wasn't as dire as he was expecting. Momentarily afterwards, Ulna's blood red lips curved into an unsettling frown. "Yes. . . I had been able to connect our minds for a very brief moment, though it was only one sided; she did not seem to be aware."

"You what?" It only took the man a moment to straighten his back to pull himself from the cushioned bench and strut closer to the Imperial, Ulna could damn well send him flying across the room with a simple spell but that didn't completely shave down the fact that Hogvir looked more menacing than a hungry wolf - towering over the shapely woman by a foot. "I have been in your quarters for several minutes and you failed to mention this?!"

"My lord! I am so sorry, I know it sounds very dire but it's-!"

"Speak. Ulna you will speak of what you heard, saw, felt. All of it; don't make me restrain you for withholding information."

"Oh, my lord that sounds a bit daft for your nature." She mustered shyly. At her bold response; the man deemed himself unimpressed. She wouldn't have been shocked if he attempted to throw her into the castle dungeons a moment later for such a comment. "I apologize, I suppose I'm the one being a bit daft aren't I? Haha. . . Sorry." Ulna cleared her throat, time was only being wasted with her words. 

She glanced down at the piece of parchment, close to the end where she remembered quickly and very restlessly due to the fear that she would forget some important information; jotted down the words. The lettering seemed childish and cluttered, some ink was smudged with blotchy patches blurring some parts of her sentences. "My exact words were that. . . Karliah was not alone and nor did she feel so," she began; swallowing as she tried to moisten her suddenly dry throat. "She is fearful, not of something but someone. This person brought humiliation on her and one of the soul roots to her dread, not only is she frightened; she is also. . . Angry, and hopeless."

"What in the divine's names is that suppose to mean?" The Nordic man asked, a bitter undertone but when she glanced up - his aura betrayed him in showing no menace in his thoughts but terror. At the key words she spoke out loud to the man; it gave the war hero insight into his daughter's spirit that he didn't want to believe. "Is there more? What else did you write down?"

Ulna bit the inside of her cheek, his eagerness was almost concerning. That he was grasping for straws and was desperate enough for the smallest clue on where she could be. "The last bit I had written down before it trailed off was that 'she wants to go home, but does not believe that to be possible'." With a soft sigh, she folded up the scroll before reaching her arm out to offer the parchment to the man. "I am sure you would want to go over this with Count Jelben, I hope you believe my insights to be true; milord."

The woman couldn't stand the mixture of horror and sorrow saturating his features, it was one to be able to see auras when the man concealed his emotions from others. But Hogvir didn't seem to be in control of his sentiment any longer. Something the man had never seemed to be comfortable with, with his state of power in Blackwood; showing weakness was undesirable to his people and he needed to appear strong even in the worst of times.  

His lips parted for a brief moment before they were pursued tightly, he nodded. "I . . . Yes that would most likely be for the best. But, how did you even-"

"Oh I'm so glad you asked!" It was odd how quick her emotions could flip, one moment she couldn't be more tense and the other she was jumping up and down. "Well Mara seems to be a very generous lady, in order to possess her insights; all you really need is a grand soul gem -filled. For your information. And the lady's shrine. Though there is much more work needed in able to be noticed by one of the divines; this is just step one-"

"No, no." he cut off the Imperial woman before she could speak further. "How were you able to contact my daughters emotions? Were you in anyway able to locate her?" There was a hint of wretchedness in his azure eyes, hidden terribly well but she could see it clear as day.

"I'm afraid I don't know sire, Mara is the one who was able to affix our minds. I truly wish I could have done more." Her nerves didn't lay as the man's aura declined to a murky blue, but his expression fought to stay neutral while the Hand of the King released a stiff nod.

"No need, Ulna." The forced smile he tried to flash her way only made the woman's heart flutter. He may have even believed that he was getting away with this; that she didn't notice the agony sinking into his very soul. "Thank you."

"Oh?" She cleared her throat once again, but before she could voice any response; Hogvir tightened his grip on the piece of parchment before turning on his boot heel to exit the room. "You're welcome? I suppose. . . "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any typos! Leave a Kudo or comment, I'm lonely.


	6. Don't Think Just Jump

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a long wait for shit I have had written since 2017! Apologizing beforehand. I wanted to rewrite some of these parts because they were a bit exasperating for me to read. But Crimson's true character shined so bright I was too busy admiring the masterpiece of a character I created instead of fixing shit. Shadow and Crimson are. . . what's the word that the kids are using these days? They're my sons.  
> ⚠⚠⚠ VIOLENCE AND MILD ATTEMPTS OF SUICIDE!!  
> Enjoy!

A devious smile flourished on the Master thief's lips as he once again reread the information he had pieced together, brown eyes perusing until the last word. It must have been the first time Silent had ever seen his Guildmaster in a creepily positive mood.

The blond Nord took a large drink of the frothy ale in front of him, "what's got you in such a mood? I didn't think you could smile -honestly." He watched the grin slowly fall from Crimson's face momentarily after the words escaped his lips. "No wait, do it again. I have to capture the moment."

"Funny." Crimson stacked the yellow-hued pieces of parchment on top of each other. "You're lucky that you're a good thief, I really would have cut your tongue out by now." He smiled, but not like the one he had briefly possessed before. This was his signature smile, like a vampire trying to hide it's fangs.

Silent rolled his eyes, taking the ebony haired man's words lightly as per usual. "So what did you find?" His blue eyes adverted to the pages in his calloused hands and back to his gaze.

"I volunteered to help Shadow in a personal job. Turns out I just found the girl that we are searching for." The Guildmaster set the scrolls on the wooden surface of the table the two of them sat around, he reached for Silent's mead; taking a large swig from the stein before setting it down again.

"Girl? What do you mean a job? It would be pleasant to hear about these types of things just incase the two of you need assistance." Somehow the blond Nord looked a bit apprehensive, and he had damn good reasons. He had joined this guild when he was young, still a lad. He had crossed half of Tamriel to get to where he was today, he was a childhood friend to most of the ongoing assets in this guild. They may have not said it often to each other but they did care for one another.

"If you want to know; fine. Shadow was contacted to find Karliah Jeane Hearthfire." The words made the blond Nord sink into his seat, the royal Breton's name stabbed him in the gut every time he was forced to hear it. Although; Silent couldn't say a thing about it, his ties to the Hearthfire family put his life and guild into a horrid situation if anyone were to find out.

More of: Silent would put himself in grave peril if the eldest daughter of Hogvir Hearthfire, also known as the Hand of the king -Vennessa; were to find out that he was part of the Watchers. The guild her father had been trying to demolish since the day he stepped foot in this city.

"Did you find her?" Silent wheezed, hoping that his breathy tone went unnoticed by the Guildmaster. Divines, for someone who was keen on boasting about how much of an observant person they were; the brown eyed Nord didn't notice the infiltrator's actions. "Damn right I did, Shadow is going to have to share more than he bargained for -now that I've done more exertion than he has." Crimson chuckled gruffly, brushing the hair from his dark eyes. Glancing back at the bold writing on the fragile documents, "the girl is held up in some abandoned fort several hours from Leyawiin. A place where the damn High Elves used to store all of their Elven gear when they had readied an attack on the Imperial City, during the Great War."

"Fort Teleman?" Silent questioned, his brows pinched together. Crimson frowned softly at how the blond had managed to come up with a name with such a lazy explanation of the destination.

"Could be." He answered in a monotone, the Nord tried to hide his agitation. Watching the Guildmaster slowly rise from the wooden seat, the papers still clutched in his nimble grip. "I'm going to find Shadow, I'm positive he'll want to know as soon as possible. Surely he won't get paid if she's dead."

Silent opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. Instead he watched the man disappear into the headquarters that led to their chambers, an icy pit in the depths of his stomach that he tried to drown with a large drink of mead. Some small whisper in the back of his head told him that something wasn't right, whether it was for the future or this very second.

He just ignored it.

* * *

Crimson's knocked weighed heavily on the thick wooden door, shaking the fibers underneath his grip. Tapping his foot in an impatient manner as he waited for some sort of response. The man frowned softly when he heard a quiet groan, "what do you want?" His adopted brother's tone was filled with annoyance, nearly going unnoticed by the muffle of the door.

"I _want_ you to get dressed. Get your daggers, bows, lockpicks, potions, anything you would need to go on a job." He lounged his weight on the doorframe he stood by, listening to the faint shuffling from behind the door. The Guildmaster debated whether or not he wanted to pick the lock; but didn't bother when the door finally cracked open.

Shadow looked visibly disheveled, something Crimson noted for later. "Why? I'm busy."

"Busy? Really? Then I won't take up your damn time and go save the pretty princess all on my own." The Guildmaster's tone was filled with thick sardonicism, but he meant every word he said, Shadow's green eyes seemed to widen for a moment.

"Did you find her? Seven Hells Crimson, you should have said that immediately!" There was a stressful undertone to his words, the master thief rose a thick eyebrow at his Second in Command's words.

"You said you were busy, with what anyway? Is someone in there?"

"I'm busy with _work_."

Crimson brushed off his comment as if he was swatting a fly. "Just get ready to head out." The Guildmaster glanced over at his office that was only a few doors down, already calculating what he was to bring with. "We're riding horseback to some abandoned fort a few miles away, it was used by the Aldmeri Dominion in the Great War."

"Fort Teleman?"

"Why the fuck do both you and Silent know the damn place? If Miss Hearthfire is really there then you're going to have to rethink how vigilant you truly are." The man scoffed before turning his back to the man, "you have less than ten minutes."

Crimson didn't seem to wait for a response, he straightened his back and made his way to the door of his office. Shadow watched him leave before shaking his head lightly with a scoff, shutting the door.

* * *

He paced back and forth, from the door - all the way to the window on the other side of the large room. He had done this several times at an impatient speed, how he hadn't sat down yet was beyond her. Karliah watched his broad form pace from wall to wall, bringing his calloused hand to his scarred lip; something the Breton silently hoped she had done.

But she couldn't say such a snarky comment to the man, not that she would even if she _could_. He had wrapped a nasty cloth around her mouth to keep her from soiling his brilliant plan of trafficking her. Unfortunately, today was the day. The realization hadn't truly sunk in for her quite yet -possibly because it was too much to comprehend. No more Blackwood, divines; no more Cyrodiil. Her town, her homeland for Mara's sake!

She shifted in the uncomfortable chair she was bounded to, praying to any divine that would listen; that the seat wouldn't creak or groan under her weight. The last thing she wanted to do at this moment was make her presence noticed by the pacing man, it was bluntly obvious he was searching for a distraction. Her hand shifted from behind her, hoping that maybe she could quietly loosen the fibers - but she gave up after only one tug. Taking in consideration that her broken arm hung at her chest, proving rather useless to helping her escape.

She swallowed, trying to moisten her dry throat as she watched Borik let go of a faint growl and advert his gaze to the door where the two of them heard a heavy knock on the thick wood. Closing her eyes, she could already feel the weight in her lungs as it became more difficult to breath; the ball in her throat became hard to disregard.

"At last. . ." The Nordic bandit muttered under his breath, starting for the door; the heavy thump of his boots filled her ears. Matching the rhythm of her heartbeat.

The door opened and Karliah's eyes met with a trio of robed men. Tall, all three of them were a head over the bandit chief in front of them. Borik didn't seem to be intimated, she could almost feel his beaming grin from where she was sitting. "Come in." He said, not in the menacing tone she was used to hearing him bare. But something more calm and inviting, she despised it.

The men bowed their heads in unison before ambling through the doorway. The High Elf that stood in front - lowered his blood red hood, leaving himself in a monk style robe; the color of a midnight sky. His eerily green eyes were bright; more or less glowing, scanning the immense stone room; almost in disgust. The way he held himself made Karliah inquire why he would want to purchase someone like her in the first place, it was painfully evident that the man was a high-born Noble as she was; it merely baffled her.

"Is that her?" His accent was very thick, something Karliah was able to tell as soon as he spoke. His eyes landed on her form and she felt her face go red, her gaze quickly darted to the floor. Trying to mouth a few prayers over the revolting rag.

"Indeed." Borik's masquerade was rapidly making her feel nauseous. She could hear the Altmer's light footsteps ringing in her ears as he approached her, somehow she managed to gain enough courage to look up at the man; but didn't get a moment of freedom before she felt his hand on her chin. Pushing her head up to inspect her features.

He rudely pulled the rag from her mouth, letting it fall to her neck as he held her head up. Karliah was only trying not to tremble in his surprisingly clean grip. Her eyes met with his, a deep fear boiling in her gut. His eyes landed on the long ragged scar that was attempting to heal on the side of her face. "And what is this?" His tone was a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.

He released her to beckon one of the men behind him; forward. The Altmer quickly handed him a milk colored scroll the size of her forearm. Karliah shifted uncomfortably as he unfolded the parchment, intensely looking at it for a moment before twisting his head around to glare at Borik. "I do not remember this scar being on her face before. I presume it is new?"

"Yes it is." Borik answered, his hands folded behind his back. Karliah found herself putting her faith in the man to make some sort of mistake so she could remain in Cyrodiil. A bandit's whore or not, surely she was more secure here - odd considering only a few days ago she told herself life would be safer in the Summerset Isles.

"Such a shame, this portrait of you would have been nearly identical without it. So you are Karliah Hearthfire? Speak girl."

She opened her mouth to reply but her throat could only push out unidentifiable sounds, blinking a few times - Hoping that maybe she'd open them and be somewhere entirely different. Choking back a sob, she managed to speak. "Y-yes."

"Wonderful Cyrodilian accent, you're really living up to my expectations. Just not the dirt and grime you're covered in. We will have to clean you up I suppose. No matter." His eyes finally landed on her arm that was tightly bounded to her chest, god - she had nearly forgotten it. "What has happened to her arm?"

"She fell." Borik answered not even missing a beat. It was not a lie. The bandit was just forgetting the key details. Such as he was whom made her fall, that she had fallen down a large flight of wooden stairs to fall on hard concrete, then he had proceeded to rape her minutes later after the trauma.

"It sounds like you have been treating the young woman very carelessly. Wasn't our concurrence to keep her safe until she was under my authority?" His pencil thin eyebrows rose, wrinkling the center of his forehead.

"These injuries were inflicted before we had made any sort of agreement, let alone before there was any move to contact you."

"Is that so?"

Their conversation seemed to drag out for several ongoing minutes. Karliah's bound arm pulled against the scratchy rope fibers until the skin on her wrist began to burn at the friction. But she still didn't halt, the desperation too strong it began burning through her; she must have kept straining it until she drew blood - Tears burning the corners of her amethyst eyes. She could feel the material stretch as she moved against it, a shooting pain shot through her arm as the raw skin was rubbed.

"Give me a brief moment, I'll go fetch our agreement papers. We can settle our argument; then you three can be on your way." He smiled, but it was bitter an weak; nearly a frown. The elf agreed and Borik made his way to the door. Shutting it behind him, somehow Karliah felt even more defenseless than she had been before.

The Altmer man looked over at her with an odd grin, something she couldn't quite make out. Karliah tried to look neuteral, tugging at the rope like her life depended on it. Divines, in this situation her life _did_ depend on it. "Why are you doing this?" She huffed, how she still had the nerve to speak was beyond her understanding.

Her question seemed to surprise the three men as well as it did herself. They glanced at each other in an odd manner, she sat there waiting for some variety of response; some sort of reason that could make sense of all this. But the Altmer man chortled dimly, something that made Karliah furrow her brows.

"Hogvir Hearthfire stood beside the Empire in the fight for the Blades and freedom of Talos worshipping. He defended the White-gold Tower in attempt to constrain the Aldimeri Dominion out of Cyrodiil. What's another way to get back at the man who had caused so much mayhem other than abducting his own beloved daughter?"

Her lips parted softly at the crude words, something at the back of her mind told her to argue. To say if the Aldimeri Dominion had something against her father; then they better march up to the gates of Blackwood and say it to his face instead of pitifully pulling her into it - when she had nothing to do with her father's actions.

But Karliah didn't say anything, she just let her head lower; focusing on twisting the rope that bound her to this chair. Maybe if she stressed it enough then she would manage to break free, but the pain from all the harsh movement was making her immensely lightheaded. But she had been through so much worse, so much more severe than a fucking rope burn.

And suddenly, as if the gods had finally notied her suffering; she heard the scratchy fibers snap in half and her arm fell free. The noble could still feel the loop of rope that was still latched to her wrist; but she was able to move, the faint trickle of blood raced to her palm to clot in the crevasses of her skin.

"What was that?" The words made the blood running through her veins freeze and her breathing seize, her eyes quickly glancing up to the men to see if they had heard the fracture. Instead their gazes were adverted to each other.

At last; instead of focusing on her own heartbeat, she listened to the faint sounds of clashing swords in what must have been the level below them. One of the cloaked elves released an exasperated sigh, "these uncivilized bandits, wild dogs have more manners than them." Shaking his head with a chuckle at his own comment.

Karliah didn't say anything.

"Speaking of these outlaws, where is that chief? He must be taking his sweet time to find our agreement."

Slowly shifting her weight on her legs, giving herself an easy running stance; Karliah glanced around the room for any easy getaways. She had been in this room several times before but felt too uneasy to study the surrounding area. The same flight of stairs she had attempted to flee up the first time she had been here. But now she knew there was nothing but locked doors and barrels hidden away up there. Everything else seemed to be closed away, a closet that was heavily barricaded caught her gaze; but she came to the conclusion that there was possibly only weapons and armor hidden away behind there. Not some sort of paradise locked behind closed doors.

Yet again; her eyes landed on the window. What had lastly been her escape plan and possibly the only one she would ever have, landed right back into her mind. If she was quicker this time then maybe she would make it to liberation, or death - which ever the divines were in the mood for.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of the double doors being busted open, slamming against the stone wall with an obnoxious sound; as if chunk of wood had been ripped off it's hinges. Her head jerked up to glance at the two figures that submerged from the doorway.

It wasn't her father nor was it his men from what she could make out, so she had no reason to stay still when there was a perfecctly good distraction brewing right in front of her. The Elvish men didn't waste time to summon their destruction magic, one of them settled for summoning a bound sword with impressive conjuration magic.

Karliah launched from the wooden seat and scrambled towards the window, nearly trippling over her own bare feet as she darted to the wall. Her heart was beating at a rapid speed; surely it was some sort of heart attack.

Briskly, Karliah opened up the shudders, not taking even a moment to look down at the ground below before she jumped up on the edge and prepared to let herself fall. Glancing over her shoulder for a brief second to see the blood that had began to clot on the cement floor of the large chamber. Karliah couldn't tell the crimon robes from the blood that pooled from the dropping bodies. Before she let herself plummet to the ground, her gaze landed on a pair of green eyes that belonged to one of the men that had bursted into the room.

She let go.

* * *

Crimson drew his sword from the haughty Elf's back, thrusting the body to the stone floor. His eyes darkened from his animalistic instints that had taken over with no hesitation. The Guildmaster glanced over at his Second in Command that had already sheathed his sword and bolting towards the window that was wide open with the sun pouring through.

"No!" He snapped, his hands gripping the ledge as the green eyed Nord peered over at the girl that could very well be falling to her death. Shadow looked over at the older man who had an evident frown on his face.

"She. . . Did not. . . Just jump out the fucking window." Crimson sighed, his shoulders slumping faintly with the slight shake of his head. The Nord witnessed his adoptive brother's eyes widen - almost in sheer panic at the situation the two had been faced with. It was as if Shadow had forgotten that they had just slaughtered an entire reaver clan in cold sweat; with the both of them being splattered with gore and gods know what else, was surely something that the Guildmaster found quite amusing. "That's a damn shame, two Hearthfires down. Two more to go-"

"This is not time for your damn jokes Crimson!" The Second in Command retorted bitterly, handsome lips pulled into an unsettling frown. "We need. . . To get down there right now and make sure she's safe." Without another word, the thief was out of the Guildmaster's sight; already dashing through the bloody broken door frame and down the wide corridor.

Crimson sighed softly before turning on his boot heel and running after his little brother.

* * *

The descend down was further than she had initially anticipated from first glance several fortnights ago. The bright sun that affixed in the sky above her seemed to force her eyes shut from such a beaming illumination. But that was the least of her troubles as the whirling wind screamed in her ears, the sod inching closer and closer at a frightening speed.

Karliah Hearthfire didn't even get a chance to let a mere screech escape her throat before the wind was knocked out her lungs in a forceful manner as she came in contact with the land, not knowing what part of her was first to explode in pain, but it all did. Not a moment to recover - her body was already hurdling down a wet slope.

Amethyst eyes flung open in horror as she blindly flailed her limbs, even her broken arm (which explained the shooting pain in her right arm) jerked as Karliah helplessly attempted to stop herself from any sudden death. She cried out as a keen root extending out from the ground sliced deep into the back of her thigh, her head nearly being smacked by a rock pelted into the mud.

The thing to halt her from going any further down the hill was a rotten log that laid horizontal on the muddy surface, the side of her head crashed into the soggy fibers that caused a sudden ring in her left ear. Releasing a pained groan, she stopped herself from letting her head fall sideways in the mud. But she couldn't bring herself to get to her feet.

"S-ev. . .en hells. . ." She sputtered out in a hoarse tone, hacking up something that seemed to be lodged in her throat - only after muttering few sylables. The young Breton began spitting up a thick solution that she could only presume to be blood. It dribbled down to her chin, but she didn't notice. Divines, she had done it. She had finally gotten out of that damned fort but only to nearly loose consciousness in a damn ditch moments after her victory.

Even if she was out of her head, Karliah managed to turn on her side; gasping for breath but continued to get on all fours to crawl further away from the stronghold. Whimpering at every agonizing shuffle.

"Don't move!" A strained voice called out, but she hardly heard anything but whispered muffles that the young woman could pay no mind to. Her blurry eyesight was able to make out the bleads of blood that was streaming down her forearm; though she was unable to identify the source.

At the last moment she heard the sound of crunching leaves before she collapsed over on her side, unable to force herself any further without experiencing excrusiating pain. A moan of agony tumbled from her lips as she felt something warm touch the side of her cheek. Due to the ringing in her ears, she couldn't hear well but she could perceive the sound of a tone; as if someone was speaking.

Warmth. . . _Human_ warmth.

She must have used up the last bit of energy left in her to peer through glossy eyes and scream out in terror, jerking away from whomever had attempted to touch her. Although Karliah didn't seem to make any dire chances to her situation, nor make it any easier for herself. The Noble's own frame had mentally tied itself down, calling it quits; as if it could handle no more dread.

Mind and body alike, both seemed to be broken (or she had just hit her head eminently hard on that tree trunk). She sobbed in defeat, no matter how pathetic, she had the right to look like a dying animal after everything she was forced to inhabit. And yet her efforts were for nothing, because this outlaw was just going to drag her right back to that hold.

Oddly enough she wasn't curtly yanked to her feet, or blighted to fall asleep quicker. From what she could make out; Karliah had been pulled into something in the same realm as an embrace. Divines, she easily welcomed it too. Not that the Breton was capable of fighting back.

Soon she felt numb, by the gods - she couldn't feel anything for that matter. Blackness drowned out any blur of color she had once experienced, and she fell out of reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE MY BOY CRIMSON SOOO MUCH!! He's such an asshole I'm in love. So Karliah is out of there, and from now on the chapters won't be as mentally painful for me. Leave a comment or Kudo because I'm lonely, stay tuned!


	7. Skin & Bones In The Hands Of A Fox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm working on my other fanfictions right now and since I feel like I'm not getting anything done: I'm posting this. Anyhow, enjoy! If you can.

"Hey? No wait, don't fall asleep!" By the time the young woman's eyes had fallen shut, the Guildmaster had finally drew near Shadow who had sprinted ahead. The green eyed Nord shook the royal woman softly, gingerly his arms had moved her; any reaction would be enough to show that she was alive.

He wiped the blood from her arm, but it only seemed to smear across her skin. Crimson could see the anxiety that was haunting the man's expression. It even managed to shake the ebony haired man of his shitty attitude. Awkwardly kneeling down in the mud. His finger's on her upper neck that seemed to be heavily discolored with painful looking bruises. But her pulse was found, softly throbbing against his fingertips. "She's alive. Barely." The older man spoke, a hint of sympathy could be heard.

"Hold on, hold on. Give me a moment." Shadow shuffled so he could free his hands, closing his eyes momentarily; as if deep in thought. His thick brow twitched softly, and soon enough a soft golden glow blossomed from his palms. Crimson wasn't impressed.

"We have healing potions with us." The man muttered bitterly, evidently annoyed by the Second in Command using the arcane magic. The Nord shook his head, saying that it was faster this way before placing his hands on her wounded leg. The blood that was rapidly streaming from the gash needed to be stopped as soon as possible.

It may have been from the man being severely irritable this whole journey, but his zen was not sufficient for sustaining his mana for long. The thief managed to halt most of the bleeding from several wounds on the woman, but was unable to close them. Her arm still slightly gnarled and many bruises to show for. "We need to get her to Blackwood immediately." The green eyed Nord uttered somberly, glancing up at the Master thief that was still hovering; eyes littered with severeity.

Crimson didn't argue.

* * *

The two men had rounded up their horses as quick as they could, Crimson had impatiently waited, but was able to entertain himself by watching Shadow attempt to prop the woman up on his mare. The horse huffed in annoyance at Shadow's treatment. Cocking it's head to the side to look at the Nord, so the Second In Command had settled for placing her in front of him so she could lean comfortably against his chest as they rode back to Blackwood, he had even wrapped his thick cloak around her shoulders to keep her warm. The Guildmaster had offered to let her use his cloak but Shadow brushed him off.

"She jumped out the goddamn window, Shadow." Crimson reminded bitterly when they finally set journey back to the gates. He may not have particularly liked the Hearthfires - hell, he practically hated them for the ongoing conflict his guild had to endure with the royals. But what could drive someone to such extremes to nearly plummet to their damn death? "Not to mention she has more wounds than a war victim."

"Just don't." The Nord snapped, the girl whimpered sheepishly at his harsh tone. A brief silence took over as Shadow bit his tongue softly before continuing. "Don't talk about it, alright?"

"Don't? The Shadow of Cyrodiil is resting his chin on Karliah Hearthfire's shoulder and I shouldn't mention it?" Right after the words had escaped from the man, the thief moved his head. But Crimson continued. "How in the Seven Hells will we bring her to the Temple of Zenithar without rising speculation? I'm not exactly in the mood for a trip to the Sunglow Palace dungeons if I do say so myself. They might think we were behind her _unfortunate_ disappearance."

"Then we'll bring her to the guild." Shadow muttered casually, his lips pulled into a soft frown. He hadn't stolen a glance at man riding beside him, but Shadow could already picture the look on his face.

"We do what?"

"We bring her to the Hideout, if we keep everything on the down low then everything will be fine. Meireka knows how to brew healing potions, not to mention we have some stored away, I know Restoration, the Gray Fox can be alerted of the situation, and Elvin is surprisingly good at sewing."

Crimson couldn't help but laugh softly, surely he was joking. _Joking_. His adoptive brother wasn't thinking of _actually_ bringing the enemy into their home, threatening their lives beyond belief. But when the Second in Command didn't chuckle back, he looked over at him. Noting the impassive look overtaking his features. "You're actually serious."

"It's better than the two of us being locked up in prison for a fortnight, possibly longer if no one were to break us out - for trying to rescue her. This way we'll be able to nurse her back to health. For all we know; she'll be thankful! This could change everything." Crimson moved his gaze back to the dirt road in front of them. Through the bundle of trees he could see the large cobblestone wall that protected the city of Blackwood, he struck the side of the mare to make her gallop faster.

"I really put you on a pedestal you know." The Guildmaster sighed, brushing the ratty hair from his face. "You're either dumber than a bag of hammers, or too kind for your own good."

Shadow shot a glare his way. "You can bitch about it all you want, but it's our best bet." He stated, shifting his weight. Karliah's head bounced softly. "Divines Crimson, the gate is just ahead. Make up your damn mind: The Hideout or the Temple of Zenithar?"

Crimson clenched his jaw softly, his Adams apple bobbed in his throat as the man stayed silent for a few moments. He cursed under his breath.

* * *

"You know where this puts us I presume?"

The man's piercing blue eyes shot at the two men that sat in front of his desk. Shadow was sitting with his back straight, but his elbow rested on the arm of the Victorian styled seat. Fist pressed to his temple in a cold manner. The agitated expression on his face told that he did not want to be here.

Crimson was no different with his feelings towards this meeting. But he lounged in the chair, his back sunk into the seat in a lazy manner; he held his leg up as if he meant to slam it on the edge of The Gray Fox's desk. "Puts us in one interesting fucking situation, if only our Second in Command wasn't such a dumbass who thought with his d-"

"Get the stick out of your ass, Crimson." Shadow interrupted before he could finish, his face slightly pinker than it was moments before. "The situation was dire and you act as if I put a damn dagger to your throat."

The Guildmaster could help but chuckle gruffly at his words, he opened his mouth to respond with a comment just as bitter but the thief behind the desk held up his hand to silence them. "Quiet, both of you." He muttered - as if the two men were children, his impassive expression was hidden by the thick cowl that draped over his features. A few moments passed as the older thief rose from his seat with an exasperated sigh, folding his hands behind his back as he ambled around his office. Halting for a moment to look out the window to stare down at the city of Leyawiin. The familiar sight of the abandoned marketplace caught his eye. "Gallus, what are you thinking?"

Shadow sighed, the sound of his real name rolling off the Gray Fox's tongue made this situation feel more professional than it had to be. "I saved the girl from divines know what, the least I could get is some appreciation." He grumbled.

"Fine, We are all so grateful to hear that you saved the girl's life; even if I'm the one who truly located her. Happy now?" Crimson couldn't help but add in an unenthusiastic tone, one that the Gray Fox didn't partially appreciate; causing the older man to turn back around and narrow his gaze on the young Guildmaster.

"I didn't ask for your opinion, Crimson." The Master thief added solemnly before turning his blue gaze on Shadow. "I thank you for accepting the job and saving her life, Gallus. But I'm concerned about your intentions."

"I'm not out to bed her." He snapped, his usually soft green eyes that swayed most women his age were now a sharp glare. Hands clenching the material on the chair so hard that the tips of his fingers were growing white. "She's Hogvir Hearthfire's youngest daughter. That's a goddamn suicide."

The Gray fox let go of a faint smile, one that the younger thieves could not witness, he began to saunter peacefully around the office. "You know what you did. There is a temple of Zenithar right in this city. But you brought her to the Guild. You brought her into the Watchers."

"That's what I said." Crimson muttered, mainly to be said for himself but a sideway glance from the Gray Fox told him that he had heard it.

"Doing so could risk putting not just me, but Crimson in the palace's jail for a fortnight." It must had been the third time he had had to repeat those words. An agitated sigh escaped him as he shook his head. "You never complained about me bringing Danica back to the guild when she was hurt!" He huffed.

"You ended up sleeping with her." The man reminded, Gallus's frown only got deeper. Crimson couldn't help but let a wry smile ghost upon his lips at the Gray Fox's words, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

"I'm leaving." The Guildmaster announced, as if he had enough of the situation at hand. That being said; it had gone on well over twenty minutes. Crimson rose from the seat, raking his hair back before peering at the Gray Fox. "Anything else to say, _father?"_ The man stressed the last word with a bitter undertone.

The master thief shook his head softly, sitting back down in his chair behind the heavy timber desk. "You may go. Gallus you will stay."

The scowl on the Second in Command's lips just seemed to grow deeper.

They shared a moment of silence as Crimson took his leave from the room, slamming the door behind him; but the two didn't pay too much attention to it. Gallus kept his gaze focused on the notorious thief before him, a lazy but irritated expression dominating his features.

They stood by until Crimson's faint footsteps were no longer heard. "I saved her." Shadow reminded in a calming tone, or as serene as he could make it. He brushed back his brown hair before clearing his throat. "I should at least be able to speak to her before we send her back to the noble House of Hearthfires."

"You're sister isn't very pleased with your decision of bringing her back here."

"When is Meireka ever happy when I bring a girl to the hideout? Ever since Elvin came into the picture; she has been scolding me for how my relationships are with-" His retaliation fell short with a scoff, crossing his arms. His mind soar back to her words of crossness she had spoke the days before:

_"Ever since mom and dad died, you've been a total wreck. Stop finding comfort in woman you don't even care about -and come to me. Come to Crimson, Silent, Sadaera, Athinis, and Elvin. We are the people who care about you!"_

She was smart, smart and nevertheless stubborn. She never seemed to let him make decisions all on his own. Only two summers younger than him, but she was an intelligent woman. Like their mother Inga.

"She cares for you." The Gray Fox reminded; pulling the green eyed Nord from his contemplations, the boy looked away. "I respect your decision of bringing Karliah Hearthfire to the sanctuary. But please remember that you have responiblities. You're the Second In Command of the Watchers, so I hope you're heart is in the right place. And in Crimson's words, you aren't thinking with your-"

"Can I go back to the Sanctuary?" He cut the elder off, knowing that it was for the best. His expression hadn't grown any more positive. "Silent looked more than disturbed when I told him he had to look after the Breton while I was gone."

The Gray Fox smiled wryly, due to the cowl; it was unable to be seem. With a redeemed sigh, he nodded. "Are we at an apprehension?" He asked.

Gallus stared at him for a brief moment. "Of course we are. Crimson is the one having a hard time accepting the situation." His words were said a bit too curtly, but the Second in Command didn't fret and or try to reword his statement.

"Don't think too much about it, if it comes to it then I'll deal with him." The Gray Fox's tone was impassive, and his words made Gallus shift in his seat. Standing up from the cushioned chair, he smiled ever so dimly at the thief.

"Thank you for being understanding." Shadow muttered; almost grumbled under his breath in embarrassment, he didn't wait for the Master thief to respond before he started for the door. Opening it and swiftly shutting it behind him. Fox sighed.

_"Rodrik would be proud of you."_

* * *

"Tch. . . Dammit."

Her head was spinning, feeling as if she was trying to perceive the outside world while under water. Not yet could she open her eyes, too groggy to do anything other than laying there. Karliah felt sore, her arms heavier than lead; divines her legs were even worse. A few moments went by till she felt confident enough to raise her eyelids. Peering up at a carved cobblestone ceiling, one so familiar yet so foreign.

Confusion swam through her gut, dozens of questions soared through her head as she fastened her eyes once again. She could hear the clanking of elixirs on a nearby counter somewhat close to where she was laying. Soon coming to the conclusion that she indeed was not alone.

That just added one more question to the already large bundle inside her head. The first ones being: Where was she? Was she hurt? Who was this person in this room? Her memory could only stretch so far. Unfortunately she was able to remember the past few months stuck inside that reaver camp, then taking the risk to fall out a window a few stories from the ground. Nothing much after that, her mind was fuzzy and attempting to remember any further made a sudden headache burst in her temples.

For all she knew, the faint memory of meeting someone's emerald gaze could have been a figment of her imagination. Karliah could have fallen unconscious in that ditch, and one of the bandits hauled her right back up to the fort. Hell, this could be the Summerset Isles. Her struggling could have all been for nothing.

Even with all this hopelessness heavy in her heart, the Breton managed to shift in an attempt to sit up. A pitiful effort of pulling herself upright, all she seemed to muster was rolling onto her side with a painful whine. She didn't mean to break the silence, Mara knows what would happen if they found out she was stirring.

"Are you awake?" The genuine concern in the voice shocked her, again her eyes opened; the candlelight that had been casted in the middle of the room with basic Alteration blinded her sight. Squinting lightly, she made out the large figure that bent down on his knees to address her. "Don't move, I haven't been able to mend your bones correctly."

"Where-"

"You're in Blackwood." He seemed to answer her question before it slipped through her mouth, as if he was expecting it. Eyes adjusting to the light at last, the shadows guarding his features disappeared. His eyes being what pierced through her the most, mainly because they were the ones she had looked right into right before she nearly plummeted to her death.

Her mouth hung open, but the noble couldn't form any words. She was back in Leyawiin? Her home? Karliah didn't know why she didn't feel complete euphoria, all she had wanted ever since she had woken up in that stronghold was to go home. Go back to normal and live her life.

Live her life? How in the seven hells could she go back to normal after everything she had been through?

She let the man gingerly assisted her in sitting up so she was no longer on her side, the intimacy was rather uncomfortable with the stranger after everything she had been through in the past few months. But she didn't complain, not being able to find her voice to do so. Still feeling severely groggy, whether it was from the long slumber - or the immense pain she had endured; Karliah didn't know. Honestly she didn't want to find out either.

There was a soft hum that rang in her ears, it seemed to distract her a bit from the constant anxiety that was weighing down her spirits. She watched the man shift to his feet before rising, moving over to the other side of the small room. Karliah still wasn't sure if he was to be trusted, considering he had bursted through a door before slaughtering a trio of Altmer elves without asking questions. There was bound to be some miscommunication.

He grabbed one of the many cherry red potions from the old alchemy lab in the right corner of the area before strolling back over to her, where she still awkwardly sat on the bed she had woken up on. "Drink this." He said in a soft, calming tone; almost as if he could sense her uneasiness. "I'm sure it will fix your bones, and make you feel new again."

_But will it fix my mind?_

"T-thank you. . ." She managed to sputter out through chattering teeth, making a move to pull the cork from the elixir. Odd how she didn't even hesitate to take the bottle from his calloused hands, for all she knew it could be frostbite venom in a fancy container - maybe even a virulent poison. But for an odd reason she didn't even second guess it. But now that the thought had entered her mind, she cautiously took a small sip to sense a bitter undertone; even if it had been poison then there was an overwhelming chance that the small taste she had taken would have been fatal. But it seemed alright, the sweet but vile liquid soothed itself down her throat. Burning like a strong Nord mead but with no merry side effects to her head.

She gulped it down like cool water, even if the potion itself was temped and had the same taste as a rotten peach. She felt it work through her system and the groggy feeling she had - slowly disintegrated, the sharp pain she seemed to have at every breath was sorted out and even her broken arm had lost it's throbbing ache. For a moment she was even able to forget about the jagged cut across her cheek.

The man must have witnessed the slightest increase in her dull mood, smiling positively her way as he gladly took the emptied vile from her hand and placed it on the wooden stand alongside the bed. "You're. . . Uh. . . The one who. . ."

"Yes, I am." Divines, was he reading her mind? How in the seven hells did he already know the questions tumbling from her mouth even before she did? "Your name is Karliah, correct?"

A thick silence fell over the two of them, she would have snickered several fortnights ago falling with a simple "of course", but now she seemed to hesitate. Hesitate in a easy yes to her own damn name, did she even deserve her aristocratic title anymore? Surely Borik had stripped her of her grace along with her clothes. "Who's asking?" She asked, swallowing the lump in her throat, surprising herself with her own bold question; something Karliah didn't think she had the guts to ask. But the man in front of her seemed to enjoy the reply, chuckling; but she didn't find anything funny.

"The Shadow Of Cyrodiil."

For a moment she didn't react, nevertheless when his words had finally sunk in - Karliah's shoulders tensed and her eyes widened. Out of every name ever recorded in history, hearing that he was Uriel Septim VII would have been easier to take in. Without knowing what to say, she just let her mouth fall open in shock. The man, he didn't seem to be effected at all by his own statement. "I was sure you would want to know before this conversation went any further."

"You're right." Her tone was a bit more curt than it had been moments before, though it was still fairly weak and hoarse. But she had her reasons, correct? The Shadow of Cyrodiil was one of the most wanted men in the province, right behind both Crimson Criminal and The Gray Fox themselves. The emerald eyed man may have saved her life but he was still an enemy to her family, being in his damn presence would be enough to send her father into boiling rage.

"Do you feel better?" His tone was still gentle, treading lightly as if she was fragile glass he anticipated to shatter at any given moment; odd under the consideration that he was aware of who she was - and her to him.

"I. . . Yeah." She shifted her right arm for the first time, alarmed at how well the potion had worked. Though she had used one before, it had been at the bandit camp and was half empty - and watered down tremendously. Her brows were still furrowed, still having a hard time finding out what type of situation she was in. She was in Blackwood, she was finally rid of that bandit camp and not in the grasps of men who wanted ghoulish vengeance on her father through her. But now she was not even two feet from a wanted thief who could more than likely do much worse. "How did you. . . Find me?"

As if he was relieved she had asked him a question, he smiled; something too unsullied for a man who had so much to answer for. "An associate of mine were able to search you out." He explained briefly. A really shitty explanation if you were to ask her, Karliah truly wanted to know; down to the last detail on how he had located her. How long he had been searching for her, what his plan was, the list went on. But for some reason the questions couldn't leave her lips.

"Hm. . ." Swallowing thickly, she tried to piece all of the information together; possibly she was just in shock. Not able to react to this situation the correct way, or at least the way Karliah Jeane Hearthfire would have reacted. A silence followed afterwards, she knew the man had nothing to say and was counting on her to have more questions. She did, divines knew that she did but if Karliah started asking them then she would never stop talking.

"I'll go fetch you something to eat. You must be starving."

Her jaw sagged momentarily as her eyes glanced up to meet his for a moment, the sudden anxiety that had filled her gut managed to make her neglect the empty feeling deep in her stomach. She nodded shyly to the man, tearing her gaze from his to focus on the insignificant imperfections in the wooden bedpost. Karliah didn't get to respond before he had maneuvered his way through the doorframe and away from the thick atmosphere they had shared, she didn't blame him for wanted to flee so quickly.

* * *

The emerald eyed thief had returned several minutes later with a large tray of food, something that would have been considered a dinner for two - even for a girl of royal blood who had the luxury of large meals at the Hearthfire residence. But after Karliah had been imprisoned in that god's forsaken marauder camp for months, the meal looked like a damn feast.

She had eaten quietly and tried not to gorge herself in front of the man, she had lost countless amount of things but she hadn't completely lost her manners. Pushing a large mush of bread to the left side of her cheek, "thank you. . ." She muttered ever so softly. Almost feeling the guilt towards her family for saying such a thing.

The Shadow of Cyrodiil had taken a drink from his metal stein with a soft grunt, "no need." He said, setting the tankard on the wooden cupboard beside him. He had pulled up a chair to sit across from her, knowing well that she wouldn't want him beside her. "It's my pleasure to be of help." divines, even his smile seemed to be genuine. The man was either a magnificent liar or was truly wanting to be of service.

She brought the iron fork to her mouth, biting off the cooked meat as she narrowed her gaze on the food she had left. Divines be praised when she said that there was plenty. But Karliah still couldn't find her correct words, not that she truly had any desire to speak to such a man. But there had to be _something_. He had saved her life after all, there must be something where his heart was suppose to be.

"You haven't been eating, I suppose?" His question was let out tediously. As if he expected it to be the first flame of a raging fire to spread, she paused for a brief moment; her jaw that was moving quite frequently had stopped and her gaze was unable to be caught by his own. "I apologize, I shouldn't be asking a lady such as you questions like-"

"I don't mind." Biggest lie she had ever told, of course she minded! His damn name had an echo that scretched all the way North to the Sea of Ghosts and she was unfortunate enough to be caught in his web. But she still had this urge to speak to him, as if she was intrigued by the man - what about him? She didn't know. "I. . . Have not."

"I can get you some more if you'd like."

"No. This is perfectly fine." She shyly smiled, only to be polite. To eased the nervousness she could see building in his eyes. She wondered if he was worried. If he was the one to find her then surely he had seen the horrid state she had been in, more than likely she had looked like a abused puppy whimpering in the wilderness, or a fox attacked by a savage wolf and left for death. "More than fine. . . I wasn't expecting-"

"Generosity from a thief?" He finished for her, an exasperated undertone in his voice. She nodded softly, almost embarrassed to admit that those words were her exact thought. A silence seemed to take over for a few moments as she took a few more bites of the meat in front of her, the thief took a large drink from the tankard beside him. "I don't blame you for thinking such, I say you have every right to think that way. With who your father is-"

" _My_ father." She cut in, the words echoed after his own. Referring to the older man made her heart twinge with sorrow, "he would do anything to be this close to you. Everything he has taught me up to this moment is telling every ounce of my being to shove this fork in your throat; if I stood a chance against you that is. . ." She trailed off, taking another bite of the food in front of her with a sharp exhale from her nose. "Either way. . . I couldn't do such a thing." Her lilac eyes trailed up to meet with his, he seemed to be following her every word in an intent manner. She chewed a few more times before swallowing.

"Why is that?" He asked, almost as if he was curious. She didn't blame him for not feeling threatened, not even in the slightest. She was a damaged fifteen year old girl who couldn't kill a bunny even if it handed her the dagger. No matter her father and his reputation; with only Karliah - this man could pin her down with his pinky toe.

"Because you saved my life." Her words were said leniently, even for her nature. It was just for a moment that she felt a true sense of gratitude towards the man, putting aside the hatred for him that she had been conditioned to feel since the day she heard his name roll of her father's tongue. Still, her pride and title pushed it away just as quickly as it appeared and she looked away once again. "You and whoever your associate is. . ."

Shadow folded his hands in front of him, disappointment shone in his expression; but due to Karliah's gaze being held elsewhere - she didn't notice. "It was my Guildmaster." The information was said so casually; it almost surprised the Breton. Surely telling her such things would make him be seen as some sort of traitor to his own people.

_Why did she care?_

"You. . . You know him as Crimson Criminal, but he had his part in discovering you. Technically I owe him my gratitude for finding your exact location." His tone got softer and softer as his statement went on. Possibly it was from the horrified expression that deepened in her features at every syllable. Not only was she in the Shadow Of Cyrodiil's debt; but along with the blasted Guildmaster of the Watchers. Karliah thought she was supposed to be more than thankful for being out of Borik's grasp - but it seems that the gods had a sense of humor. Of course it couldn't have just been a couple of her father's men who had the luck of finding her, it _had_ to be the damn Watchers.

She couldn't find any words to respond with. Well, she had _plenty_ but none of them were particularly nice things to say to someone who had just saved your hide. Instead she shoved a piece of bread into her mouth to distract herself from any temptation to throw it at him.

He didn't seem to say anything either, honestly he looked just as uncomfortable as she felt. Karliah didn't know why it had taken her so long to realize this but of _course_. The young man had saved her life, rescued it from a life of imprisonment and torture beyond anything meant for a living being. And she wasn't just a Breton girl; she was the daughter of the man who wanted to kill him. Hang him by his neck in front of all the citizens in Leyawiin, or to haul him into a prison cell until he lost every sane thought in his body. And here he was, giving her a full meal and a honest explanation of what had happened.

He was on edge just as much as she was, surely. Or she had interoperated the situation completely wrong and this quiet and gratifying personality he was putting out was all a masquerade when he was truly planning to plunder the Noble along with brutally murdering her; or use her as leverage to her family. But she chose to believe the first explanation.

"Anyone else I should be aware of?" Divines, could she not even attempt to make her tone a bit more inviting? Even after everything? Karliah was surprised to see that the man wasn't bothered by the bitterness in her tone. She came to realize that he was most likely used to the insolence by the citizens of Blackwood.

"No one else that should be of importance, your highness." He bowed his head lightly with a sly smirk resting upon his lips, a glimmer of amusement shone in his green eyes.

"Is that sarcasm?" She furrowed her brows, watching as the man let go of a chortle that trailed off into a brisk drink of mead.

"Not at all."

Their conversation had not dragged out much longer, a bit of small talk here and there - but nothing the aristocrat really paid much mind to. Karliah just stuck to finishing the nourishment in front of her until her stomach felt full enough to function properly as a human being. It didn't take long; considering how quickly she had wolfed the food down, the woman began to forget that that she had ate some of the portions.

The thief in front of her didn't mind, if anything he was intrigued. Not by how fast she was eating (well that too), but more by her. Gallus had seen her several times in Blackwood but never close enough to make out her every feature. Just under normal circumstances. Seeing the young woman travel to the Sunglow Palace with her Imperial housecarl, in the Marketplace chatting with the people, or at the tavern to seek out her trusted friends or ask the innkeeper Celros about any rumors.

Not much of a friend to her though; as he was to him.

"I think I have overstayed, perhaps it would be best if we were to leave this encounter in the past and go back to our daily lives. Whatever that would be." Her comment seemed to pull him back to reality and from his thoughts. He glanced up at the royal woman to perceive her straightening her back for the first time, he had thought she was going to crouch and shy away from his gaze the whole time he was in her presence.

"Are you sure that you are in good enough health? I don't think we should take the chance of you collapsing unexpectedly-"

"I assure you; Shadow of Cyrodiil - that I'll be fine." She warily moved the tray from her lap and onto the right side of the hay filled mattress before slowly rising from the bed, she wondered if the man could see that she was in a hurry to leave. Though it was likely considering it did seem like something in his expression shone great disappointment. Karliah ignored it, watching the Nord rise from the wooden chair that was positioned in front of the bed.

The Breton looked up at him briefly, seeing that the Master thief was at nearly a foot taller than her. But she stood by, clasping her hands together in front of her form; knowing that if she didn't then she would only fidget. Karliah glanced down at her frame, eyes narrowing at the same ragged dress with colors of scarlet and black; though it would not surprise her if the red coloring was blood. Knowing that Borik had forced her to wear the thing.

"I suppose I could walk you to the door." The Nord had a nervous undertone in his words, something Karliah found more than easy to detect. The venture had been quiet, rather dark and absent of any people. The Watchers sanctuary didn't seem very crowded, but there were plenty of corridors that led to several different metal doors; all in different directions. Something relatively close to a cistern, there also seemed to be a rather large tavern in the far right of the large open area - though they were going in the opposite direction of.

Going up a small flight of stairs, they soon met with a sturdy ladder that led up to the surface, she could see patches of sunlight pouring through the wooden cracks of the trapdoor. Her heart fluttered at the peek of future liberation she would be granted with at last. With a weak sigh, she turned back around to face the wanted thief who had an unknown look about him.

"Thank you. . ." She spoke at last, her own tone sounding foreign to her ears. The burst of confidence inside her voice was only there for a brief moment before it disintegrated before her, her head bowed so her eyes could glare at the smooth stone floor.

"Perhaps our paths will cross again, in the future." He said in a self-assured tone, every ounce of her being wanted to deny those words that nearly sounded like a question. But she just smiled dimly before thanking him again. With that note; she turned around and started up the ladder, her smile fell - and her usual expression of sorrow took over her features. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Gray Fox is finally making the headlines! I remember writing this shit like it was yesterday. Crimson is a whole ass mood. The last part was a bit rushed but I know that I had no idea how to end that without someone unsheathing a weapon.  
> Stay tuned, much more to come.


	8. A Blurred Road To A Reluctant Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated this in a while, but I still have a lot of shit written for this so don't worry. I'm more focused on my FNV fanfictions right now! Still, enjoy this.

Her feet skidded against the scratchy walkway, inching ever closer to the gate, eyes glancing to the dip of the cobblestone wall that surrounded Blackwood; the side hidden from her view yet she now knew what resided behind it. The Cyrodilian Thieves Guild, Karliah shook her head, shoulders slumping down from immense tension as she drifted forward. Eyes adjusting to the scene ahead of her, the woman could make out the familiar heavy cuirass strapped against the soldiers protecting the gate. 

A sense of protection washed over her for a brief moment, one she had remembered being graced with before all these series of unfortunate events. Unsurprisingly enough, the unsettling fact barged into her mind that the very ones she felt protected by and put her trust in were the men and women who had utterly failed at their own job, they let a bandit through the gates of Blackwood. So much for a 'welcome home' type of feeling.

"Halt!" The menacing tone filled her ears as she was finally close enough for the guard's to notice her presence, only months prior the threatening voice wouldn't have fazed her, she would have just continued on with her day, staring down the individual until they realized who she was, but now the timbre made her stop in her tracks, as if she had been conditioned to do so.

She didn’t even looked up to give them a proper greeting, instead just caving in on herself; her impassive expression refused to falter as well. No matter, the relief swimming through her at the joyful fact that she was now standing in front of her hometown.

"Divines, let them be praised!" A soldier on the right side of the gate straightened her back before stepping forward to close the space between her and Karliah, ignoring the ignorant and confused look from the man on duty with her. "It is lady Hearthfire! Send word to the Count at once!" After the woman had barked over her armored shoulder, it seemed that not even a moment had flied past before Karliah was being aided through the large double set doors, the guard hurrying down the pathway to the Sunglow palace in front of her. Once she lifted her gaze; she could see the vibrant rooftops peeking through the leaves of the shady, dark viridescent trees. The sun shining down more bright than she had ever thought could be possible. Karliah had lived in this place her entire life and for some odd reason she was just recognizing its beauty. 

Karliah never remembered the walks to the Sunglow Palace being this long, no matter how many steps were taken forward it just seemed as if the castle was running from her. It also felt very peculiar being escorted again, not being recognized as something that could be proved valuable in price and instead a high classed woman. She was expecting the feeling to be mutual and as familiar as her own damn name but it was all suddenly foreign. She had lived this way since she was brought into this world but those months, had been able to alter not only her status but the way she viewed the world surrounding her. She brought a bruised hand to her face to wipe away what she suspected to be tears, nothing; only a layer of mud or very dark blood. 

She felt as if the balls of her feet were aching just as much as her very heart from all this anticipation. Karliah at last reached the steps to the palace, the guards halting when her feet struck the first stone step leading up to the main entrance, was this hesitation? She really didn't know, but it seemed to plan out nicely, the doors ahead bursting open so quick she was sure that the local Blacksmith would have to double-check the hinges for damage. 

A large figure emerged from the arch, Ruffled salt and peppered hair that seemed to be in need of a trim was blown back as if he had darted straight for the door. Bright blue eyes that seemed so comforting had been hardened; deep circles sunk underneath them. His mouth agape as he took in her every feature, Hogvir Hearthfire must have expected this to be some sort of sick joke; the desensitized look in his eyes crumbling. It must had been the first time she saw tears sprout in his eyes, was he at a loss for words? Only seconds had passed but neither of them had moved and the soldiers at both her shoulders didn't deem it appropriate enough to voice opinions.  

Karliah didn't even bother to hold it in and raise her head high. It was all just too much to take in and her back collapsed in on her weight and she doubled over to the stone steps. Thick tears that had been able to be suppressed in front of the Shadow of Cyrodiil coursed down her cheeks. Uncontrollable sobs shouted into the city for every citizen and guard to hear and gossip over. She heard her father rush down the steps in order to envelope her into a tight embrace despite her unsanitariness, her father held her as if she were still a child. Somewhere in her well deserved fret; her eldest sister Vennessa tumbled from the stronghold doors and nearly slipped on the steps during her way down. 

To match Vennessa's own distress, the charcoal mascara provided for her lashes seemed to have already clotted up on the outer corner of her eyes and lower lash line, keen on streaming down her face. The woman didn't care, and from how she was walking it was as if one of her slippers had been abandoned on her way out of the citadel. She sent herself to her knees, throwing her arms over both Karliah and her father. 

The man damn well had let her, wrapping both his meaty arms around his two girls as his breath came out in sputters, he was hardly breathing. No words seemed to be exchanged, as a matter of fact; none of them knew what to say to each other. Trapped in their heads with silent thanks to the divines. Hogvir tried to remain concealed, opening his eyes briefly to peek at the guards who had been the ones to escort his youngest daughter to the castle doors. Nodding his head softly as a well deserved thanks, they bowed as a symbol of allegiance before leaving them be on the steps.

He hadn't even noticed the tears that had began to leak from his eyes, but didn't swat them away. The divines gave him two hands and right now he was going to use them to hold his children, not to protect his damn masculinity. He had every right in the world of Nirn to yell and sob. Minutes had gone by before any of the triad had the courage to pull themselves from the embrace.  

Karliah had prepared the most efficient way possible for the upcoming hatred on her disappearance and recklessness, but nothing was able to brace her for what came next. He was not angry, no, instead he possessed a somber, concerned expression. He removed his palm from her shoulder, moving his gloved hand and cupping the side of her face, one not that had not been scarred with his own knife; but the side he held a restful memory with. Hogvir's eyes scanned her up and down briefly before a sputtered whisper met her ears. "What happened?"

Words did not pass through her cracked lips, unable to find her own voice, she couldn't find an answer that wasn’t heart-wrenching. Hogvir realized this, stopping himself from pestering his daughter any further. Instead he wrapped his arms around the two before at last focusing his attention on his eldest daughter who had her arms wrapped around her sibling with no intent on releasing her anytime soon. "Vennessa. Please run and inform Ulna that I am bringing Karliah to her. Right now."

With the warm feeling of her sister's arms holding her close, she refused to let her go, it took great strength for the Breton woman to nod and follow her father's orders. Reluctantly pulling herself from the both of them, spinning on her heel to flee up the stone steps and into the Citadel.

She could not bring herself to move, for the fear that any sudden jerk could wake her from this and she would awake back in Borik's chambers, seeing this all as a cruel laugh for the divines. Her father must have sensed this, as without speaking, he cradled the girl in his arms and rose to his feet. Unbothered to carry the woman as he did when she was a young lass, her gaze hovered over his shoulder. As he walked through the double doors of the castle, she could see the familiar structures she had missed for countless weeks. The relief in her father's cobalt blue eyes did not falter as he rushed towards one of the mirrored sets of elegant stairs before them, even if she felt such indescribable joy to arrive back home; she couldn't shake herself of such vivid memories to smile.

He hastened to the top of the stairs, his hand resting on the back of his daughter's scarlet head as he walked. The pair of them did not speak as he took a right and scoured for the railed walkway, halting at the second door, that happened not to be a door at all. Just a woodend archway carved with abnormal emblems, marks, and symbols; ones from the sort that the Hand of the Count could not pinpoint. But he did not take it into his concern as he swept through the dome.

Hogvir had only just glided through the entrance before he could make out the sounds of his elder daughter's snivels as she attempted to explain to the court witch the situation at hand. 

"Vennessa, I am sorry but you need to calm down before you can get your words out correctly! Sit down and I will cast a calming spell on you, it will do you no harm! I assure you, I have managed to maven the apprentice-level illusion charms. . ."

"Ulna."Hogvir announced his presence, and the two women turned their heads to lay their eyes on the Nobleman with his daughter held in his grip, unmoving yet awake. The sight struck Vennessa like a dagger to her heart, and her bloodshot eyes with charcoal seeping from her inner and outer corners only welled up with more tears at the perception of her little sister so vulnerable in their father's grasp. Vennessa took it upon herself to stumble back to a clothed bench in the midst of the quite unusual room. 

"Sire! I-" The sorceress's sunset colored eyes narrowed at the young girl in his grip as he stepped deeper into the dim room. "Oh dear, oh my! This is one exasperating evening! Is that-" She abandoned her words at the unspoken expression in the hand's azure eyes. "Set her down in the cushioned chair alongside my enchantment table."

Hogvir could not find the voice to retort to the witch's words about his daughter being a noblewoman who was permitted to the highest terms of care. With his eldest daughter who had not moved her gaze from Karliah, still resting in his grip with words unspoken. The Imperial woman released an energetic shudder and she rushed aimlessly to her untidy desk on the far left side of her quarters, pulling her hood down from her head to expose her bright sun kissed hair. "Refrain from toppling anything over. Careful!" She snatched her silk gloves from the end of her bureau prior to marching over to the young Breton girl who her father sat down in a delicate manner. 

Karliah's eyes fluttered briefly, but from all other frames of mind; she seemed wide awake. The Imperial woman kneeled down to stare wordlessly at the aristocrat, grumbling to herself about the lack of lighting before quietly casting an orb of light above her head. "That is much better." She sighed, taking the red headed woman's bruised and dirty hands in a somber fashion. "Milady I- Sire I will need some much needed space to inspect for any damage. Please."

The Nord who had craned his form over the witch took a much needed step back, his face baring a red undertone at the words; but did not retaliate as he focused his eyes on Vennessa who bore into her sibling only a few meters away. Filled to the brim with eager inquiries, but at the same time stuffed with silence. "Vennessa-" 

"I'm staying here. You cannot make me move." She interrupted bitterly, a thin tear cascading from the inner corner of her left eye that she batted away immediately. Her jaw was clenched painfully, her nose was red from her soundless weeping. Hogvir did not have another moment to ponder what to reply as heavy footsteps traveling down the hall could be heard. 

Something inside the Nordic man informed him that it must have been Karliah's godfather, the Count of Blackwood. He casted one last look at the both of his unsteady children before trotting for the archway of the door. He only reached its contents in time to halt the Kind of Leyawiin from wandering in.

The Count, a thin Imperial man roughly the same age as the Hogvir appeared in front of him. A look of disbelief shrouded his vision, but he was roughly pulled from his notions as his old friend blocked the doorway. "Hogvir please-" 

"Ulna is not wanting to be disturbed, the Divines damn you if you are aloud to speak to my little girl before me." 

"So It's true?"

"Of course it is true, I would not believe the soldiers guarding the city of Blackwood would be thick enough to spread false information far enough that it would reach the Count himself." Hogvir did not move his muscled arm from the archway, still repelling his king from entering the room. Count Jelben the third adjusted the thick, burley cloak around his shoulders, it was quite a shock that the man managed to arrive so quickly as the robe he wore did not aid him in agility. "She hasn't spoken, not yet. If you're desiring to ask." 

"As you and the rest of the Sunglow palace, I am wanting to see her. Now if you'll-"

"Jelben, don't interrupt Ulna. If it is you that halts my daughter from speaking I'll-"

Ulna released an exasperated sigh, shaking her head diligently at the muttered words between the two middle aged veterans while keeping her stare on the redheaded Breton. "Your grace, do you need any healing drafts? I have plenty to spare, or even one for stamina? You look exhausted; surely it would do you good at the moment." The girl did nothing but keep her eyes lowered and did not speak. That did not aggravate the court wizard. She didn’t need words when forces played to her advantage. Expressions, body language, and more importantly, auras. Spoke to her when others could not. Fixing her attention on the energy around the Noble Breton, the woman could make out sharp streaks of charcoal and ebony soaring around the girl. stabbing at the tops of her head and anywhere the veins of color could penetrate. "The ambiance of your mind is the color of the void, Milady. Are you alright?"

Even when all of the odds were pointing to the negatives; Karliah Hearthfire still nodded quickly. A movement that she hoped would not catch the attention of the two men at the archway of the door. Ulna did not pursue, her ruby red lips pulling into a thin and bitter line as she took hold of Karliah's right arm. The tips of her fingers pressing firmly into her flesh, her eyes scanning over her dirty and bruised form. "Are these afflictions? They seemed to have had time to heal, is that right?"

Karliah shrugged, though the lesions were recently new, or at least the lot of them. She owed her gratitude to the Shadow of Cyrodiil for giving her that healing elixir, prior to her current situation. Iit was not as if she could willingly pass on that information to the Count and his Hand. The young aristocrat sheepishly fixated her lilac eyes on the enchantress while the woman inspected her arm. Something in the woman's appearance told Karliah that Ulna could see that her bone had been broken and relentlessly moved through the course of it's mending. "I see. . . Sweetheart, have you been treated?"

In the corner of her sight, the Breton could make out her father caving and at last allowing the Count to slip past. Her Karliah’s lip quivered as she shook her head. A lie forming on her tongue for reasons she could not even make out. Was it fear? Shame? She was not certain. "No." She whispered. It was only just caught by the witch, but the movement of her lips must have been seen by the Count and her father, considering not a moment passed before her father marched towards the two of them. Jelben serenely staying back to reside by Vennessa who had thick emotion swelling in her chest to speak. 

"Is she alright?" Hogvir murmured audibly in the blonde woman's ear, Karliah’s eyes shot to the heavy quilts thrown over the walls, intent on avoiding the man's gaze until further notice.

For a few seconds, Ulna remained silent. Her mouth opened to reply but she soon thought better of it. Her sunset eyes staring vividly at the young girl, "yes." The blonde answered, relief washed over Karliah's strained muscles. "Yes, she is alright."

For a little while, she had been positive that Ulna would speak of what she had found out. Not many times in the past would Ulna, a great and powerful woman, see honor in withholding valuable information. It could have been the look imprinting itself in Karliah's features, or the "ambiance of her mind" that had convinced the witch to take a step back and allow Karliah to keep her concealment. "She seems to be in excellent health." Ulna tangled her stare with the young girl's, ". . . Physically."

Then there was no reason to keep her here for long periods of time, to check on her bruises to see if they were fading. Deftly, Karliah pulled her recently mended arm from her thinned side and swatted some of the tangled hair from her appearance without much thought. Hogvir's eyes swept over his child's face to see the deep affliction buried into Karliah's cheek, eyes widening at the sight, yet he couldn’t speak. Ulna continued, "I advice the three of you to head back home. Catch up on some much needed rest."

To the noble Breton, it seemed like the court wizard was intent on rushing the Count and the Hearthfires from her sight, but there was no bother. Hogvir was more than delighted by the idea of having his daughter's reunited at their residence. Jelben was a bit more reluctant, only able to place a loving hand on Karliah's shoulder before Vennessa took his place, but the Count understood.

It was all a blur; the minutes passing. Her sisters embrace enveloping her once again as well as her father's, the sun leering into her sight as they returned home. Her throat tightened up and her eyes stung with more tears pleading to fall, the trio headed back to the Hearthfire Residence. 

The moment that nearly cracked her shell was when she walked through the door to see Edna sitting at the long, narrow dining table with an unshakable frown on her lips, the Imperial seemed to be in some sort of trance, only to snap out of it when her father returned home. Like she were only waiting for the door to swing open. The woman immediately lifted herself from her seat to greet her father in the doorframe. Instead was met with the three of them, all teary-eyed and unraveled. Karliah had never seen the housecarl spout such a large gasping smile in all the years she had served the Hearthfire family, nor had her eyes widen as much as they did.

Vennessa peeled herself away at last, to use a free hand to wipe the carbon from beneath her eyes, Edna rounded the table to pull the red headed girl into a motherly embrace (which was so tight that her bruised torso suffered a great deal). 

"Lady Hearthfire! Karliah! By Talos we were so worried! I'm so glad to see that you're alive! Divines, you're wounded! I'll freshen you up, along with anything else you desire, yes?"

The Noble Breton pondered if the housecarl had even taken a moment to breath, she sounded almost as enthusiastic as Ulna. Though, the menacing love from the woman still shocked her, Karliah nodded. Glancing at her father who had maneuvered around the two to stare and admire. It seemed he did not need words to expression his gratefulness, or maybe he was at a loss. It would have been considered odd if she hadn't been missing for a few months straight. 

"I'll go prepare you a hot bath and some fresh clothes, I'm sure it's what you are needing right now." The woman finally took her first glance at the Hand of the Count, it was brief but it was enough to get the Hogvir to snap out of his bliss. Bowing her head to the three and hurrying down the hall, the steel plate bound to her chest creaked and groaned in protest. 

It was all familiar sounds the royal Breton didn't know she would miss until she was separated from it for so long. The mere thought was enough to bring tears to her eyes that she would unfortunately needed to hide from her father who still watched her every move, warily stepped towards the dining table to sit down. Karliah didn't want to alert them of her suffering so soon into their harmony, she wanted them to feel the joy of her being back before she could let cold reality spill out onto the floor to spoil their moods.

She felt dehumanized already, they knew who the mammoth in the room was, so there was no need to put a spotlight on it.

Vennessa cleared her throat softly, her breathing was unheard, that must have been her way of trying to control it. The eldest daughter brushed the hair from her face, from how quick she had dashed out of the citadel, her ebony hair that had been thrown up into a low bun began to untangle. Getting caught in the sheer lip-gloss on her face, for a woman of words, she seemed to be at a loss for them, like their father. Vennessa gazed at Karliah with astonishment and curiosity. 

Most of all, fear was buried deep into her gaze. The questions were running so quick in her mind that Karliah was almost positive if the thoughts were able to be seen they would give her a headache. She folded her hands behind her back as she rolled back on the balls of her feet, trying to distract herself from the swirling emotions both in her heart and head.

The three of them had stalled too long and the inquiries on their tongues were cut short and left unanswered. Edna had managed to finish her task and submerged from the first door in familiar corridor that from her room. No one had enough time to fully adjust to the change of scenery so it was only the housecarls nature to be flabbergasted, Imperial's eyes still wide with incredulity. Or at least that's what Karliah thought, it was one the Breton could not quite put her finger on. Whether it was a good or bad thing, she didn't know. Nor did she really want to.

"Everything is ready, Karliah." She spoke, unclasping the iron gauntlets from her wrist while stepping back into the dining room. With a stolen glance towards her father, the youngest daughter stepped forward. A feeling of awkwardness was beginning to come down on her, like she was misplaced and did not belong in her own home, whether or not she was family. Making her feel like she was an intruder they were forced to welcome with open arms. Perhaps it's because she knew a few things they didn’t, that being she had been rescued by two wanted thieves who her father would love nothing more than to shove his sword through their bellies. The things Borik had done was unacceptable for a princess who was suppose to be of dire importance, while chipping her confidence away, along with her courage. Maybe it was the way she carried herself that put her father in an odd stance. Her head wasn't high, nor did she walk with a sense of grace. Hell, Karliah didn't think she could remember how anymore. 

She slumped down the hallway and towards the bathhouse where she would remain, shutting the oak wood door behind her and clenching her fists. Cursing her silence and lack of joy towards the ones she cared for.

 

* * *

 

When Vennessa heard the door shut behind her younger sister; she let go of a distressed sigh. Rounding her father to take a seat at the dining table where Edna had already settled. Hogvir was the only one whose legs were currently able to withstand his weight and not collapse underneath him. 

Edna rested her elbows on the wooden surface and pressed her fist to her chin. Her lips parted to speak but no words escaped her, Vennessa understood wholeheartedly. "H-How? When did she come back?"

"A few minutes ago." Vennessa answered calmly, fingers still relentlessly wiping her eyes in hope that the charcoal wouldn't keep streaming down her cheeks. She didn't seem capable to continue after that; Hogvir was still rather stunned. His lips paralyzed and unable to move to give out the bit of information he knew, though it wasn't much. He didn't know anything remotely useful to mention.

"She came up to the gates, that's all we really know." The Hand of the King muttered softly, though he was relieved; grateful. Struck with so much awe and joy that he felt like he had chugged down a merry elixir from the court wizard and he didn't know how to react to it. 

"That scar. . ." Edna began, but thought better of it when the already conflicted expression on the sire's face decreased. It was a daedra given sign to the trusted ones around her. Considered a sneak peek into where in oblivion she had been for three months. That scar showed no compassion, Hogvir could feel the sorrow and aggravation swirling around in his stomach, gnawing at his insides in attempt to escape. Wanting him to explode and yell in rage, or collapse to the floor and weep like he had the day he held his wife in his arms for the last time. 

"But . . . She's back!" Vennessa suddenly found the realization of what was a true fact, her sister had returned. Somewhere mixed between her running mascara, salty tears, and a reddening face, she found a smile ghosting upon her lips. "Divines, why are you two moping? That’s not how Karliah wants to be welcomed home."

"Of course." Edna stuttered out, still not fully convinced herself on whether or not she should celebrate without questioning. Surely that was the same thought in their father's mind. "Things are just being . . . considered."

Vennessa's weak and somber grin drooped. What was expected when you just remind a woman to take into thought what her sister had gone through. It was something not welcoming, everyone including Edna herself tried their best to keep their thoughts rational.

The passing hour or so was not something someone would call pleasant. Edna had managed to chew down most of her fingernails to small nubs, Hogvir had put his legs to use and began to pace back and forth in the living space. Ears tuned into the smallest sounds, any clues that would help him. Hell, maybe he was even hoping to hear Karliah outright sobbing in the bathroom. Just to assure him how he should feel towards her return. 

By all means; he was downright euphoric. Comparable to an out of body experience, looking down at his form and screaming inside his own mind to do something, yet he stayed calm on the outside. A dead expression cursed his features, pacing in his own living room with no answers. He was beyond relieved; joyful to have his daughter home. Yet it was driving the Nord mad. What should he do? Comfort her? He was never as good as Count Jelben Caro was when it came to solacing, but doing nothing wouldn't benefit him either. 

There were many things he didn't know in this moment. Someone could request that he raise his left hand and for all that was holy, he would probably raise his right. 

Hogvir’s paranoia resulted in dire changes to the other's behavior in the room. Small talk wasn't a gratifying way to pass time. They all just seemed keen on waiting for Karliah to come from the bathhouse.

Soon enough their wishes were granted. None of them knew what to expect, they all knew what they desired, something that was unable to be achieved. For the same little girl they loved to walk out that wooden door, have it be like they were back in time before everything crumbled. 

Karliah shyly slipped through the bathroom door, the Hearthfire residence was eerily silent. Only being confronted with the soft thumping of her father's heavy boots while he paced up and down the front of the house. Their joy was about equal to hers. Still, the four of them could all agree that they were glad she was home. 

Karliah smoothed down the ruffles of the black slip on gown left in the bathhouse, nestled neatly on the cupboard where the towels resided, belonging to her sister, as she didn't recognize it from her own wardrobe. Her now pleasingly soft hands ran over her still dampened bicep, making out a faint yellowish bruise on her skin accompanied by thin, red scratches. 

Her left wrist wasn’t much better, though most of the bruising and cuts left on her had been very deep and puncturing, but the healing potion the Shadow of Cyrodiil had provided seemed to knit her back together. Still not unscathed, but her wrist only three or so days ago had a thick rope bound around it. Thinking back, she could still feel the intense pain it had caused her to snap it and jump three stories out of that stronghold. For what? If she would have just stayed still then her liberators would have had no problem taking her out of there. 

Liberators? Divines, were the leaders of the Watchers suddenly her knights in shining armor?

The door opening and closing behind her must have been sensed by her family waiting for her, when she stepped out from the dim hallway, her father halted in his tracks and stared at her, almost in a surveying fashion. Vennessa, who had been staring off, more than likely going over the recent happenings, pulled herself from her thoughts just in time. Edna was no different. Karliah was just thankful she stepped out soon enough so the housecarl wouldn't draw blood from her fingernails.

The anxiety bubbling in her gut made her have the uncontrollable urge to double-check whether or not the blemishes and scratches on her body were well-hidden. She hated feeling the need to hide these things from her family, especially her sister who she saw as her best friend. 

The Imperial housecarl took this as an invitation to rise from her seat, staying close to the smoothed table to place her hands on top of the thick book that was set on the surface. Something she couldn't bring herself to open and peruse with the thoughts in her brain. "Does anyone want dinner?" 

The housecarl sounded like she had been waiting to ask. Hogvir tore his gaze from his daughter to stare at Edna. "Yes, that. . ." He paused, a calloused hand brushing the outgrown salt and pepper hair from his face. "That would be fine."

It wasn't fine for Vennessa who felt uncomfortable at the very thought of consuming anything at this moment, but still found her ground to nod slightly. Karliah opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find her voice. Even if they were all waiting on her, it just wasn't in her power. 

What were they anticipating? Maybe a sobbing girl apologizing over and over for being gone, or maybe to throw herself at all of them spouting about how she had missed them and that she loved them unconditionally. That is how she felt after all, but something felt missing, she seemed to be more aware of the expressions her kin were using.

"What about you, miss Karliah?" Edna's tone wavered slightly, it a moment for the red headed Breton to realize the question was adverted to her. The woman expected her to answer it seemed, did she want to? Divines, could she? They must have wanted to hear her tone, see if it sounded the same or bared any differences.

"I don't know if I feel up to it." Karliah said after swallowing the thick lump building in her throat. She could only hope that her answer wouldn't arouse suspicion, telling them that only a couple of hours ago, she devoured an entire meal with the company of the Shadow of Cyrodiil would surely not just go right over their heads. It wasn't the time to throw all of this weight on them. It was her burden to carry; all of it, and possibly even hers alone.

Hogvir was more than ready to object. Edna seemed to throw him off with her quick and gentle acceptance, but his stern look of disapproval refused to crumble. The imperial woman set off, right into the kitchen, and for the most part. The evening was conveniently. . . Tolerable. 

Questions were put off, no matter how much the family was aching to ask them. They seemed to have enough manners and respect for her opinion that they left her to keep to herself. Only to an extent. Vennessa made it her undying mission to remain as close as possible to her sister, Hogvir who had been bothered for most of the hour found himself able to smile wryly at the scene.

Karliah had sat down on the familiar velvet sofa in the center of the room, in front of the fireplace welded to the wall. Hoping to appear the least amount of troubled, lifting her expression very slightly to appear untroubled. Minutes passed before Vennessa was found nestled close to Karliah, like a wolf to its cub. The Breton didn't shove her sister away, actually, she wanted nothing more than to just let herself go. Stop trying so hard to not burden the ones she loved and weep and sob in the woman's arms until everything didn't hurt as much as it did. 

Instead, they just spoke quietly about the most random things, trying not to mind the negative undertone to this whole situation and enjoy the present. Even if it was just for a few seconds., Vennessa muttered on about a book she had been studying, and didn't even mention her disappearance. Nothing. It was almost like she knew that Karliah wanted to disappear from her thoughts. Borik, the Watchers, all of it. Just exist as herself. 

It was, dare she say, worth it. Up until Vennessa untangled her arms from her to go have dinner. Their father asked very quietly for Karliah to join them. The man, just as Vennessa, didn’t want her far from his range of sight, Edna wouldn't allow it either. It all flew past Karliah, all the conversations meaningless, small, and just all round small talk.

The big questions needed a bit more time, everyone had taken that into consideration.

"I'm a bit tired." Karliah spoke, Hogvir had just answered one of Edna's questions and another beam of silence had come over them and the young noble took it as an invitation. Their father perked up at Karliah’s voice. He did not send her off with a monotone "goodnight", instead rising from the wooden chair that creaked under his weight and made is way over to her. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his unshaven beard scraped against the skin. It was the most comforting thing a man had done for her in far too long. "Sweet dreams then, Karliah." She could almost taste the emotion in his tone, she didn't respond, knowing if she did then she'd only tear up.

Edna hid her watery smile, more than glad to see the change at heart from the bulky man. His usual sulking mood had shifted, but she wasn't completely certain of the emotion he currently barred. 

With a weak nod to both her sister and their housecarl, Karliah kicked back the seat and got to her feet and set her destination for the dim corridor. Why did she say that? She wasn't tired, by the gods, she was far from it now that she thought about it. Slumber was such a venerable position to be in after everything she had endured. 

What would she do then? Lock the door to her room then barricade the window so there was no way of entry? Paranoia could only drive someone to such an extreme before they snapped. If the aristocrat was already resulting to isolation to keep herself safe, the road from now on didn't seem so smooth.

"Karliah, wait."

Her sister’s weak, yet promising tone made her stop outside her bedroom door, fingers about to grasp the knob. Her eyes met with Vennessa’s. She expected this to be some sort of interrogation away from Edna and their father, "yes?" Her tone could have been less curt but with the questions pounding against her temples, she couldn't worry. 

"I. . ." The lone candle sconce in the hallway casted a trembling shadow on her sister’s face, but there was enough glare for Karliah to see the embarrassed look in her eyes. "I was just wondering . . . I don't want you to be alone."

They stared at each other, Karliah moved to turn the doorknob and shoved the entrance open. Vennessa seemed to understand that she needed to reword what she had said in order for her sister to respond, "I don't want to be alone. . ."

Well it was nice to see her change of heart, that it wasn't about doing something because she had to, but that she was doing it out of love and care. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

The girls stood there for a moment, considering Karliah still blocked the doorway. Was it alarm? Shock? It wasn't surprising that she asked such a thing, especially after everything that had happened. Vennessa was bound to clasp herself to Karliah and hang on for dear life with the fear that she may not be there the next morning. It was reasonable, and oddly enough was so much more to her than it would have been months before. 

"Of. . . Course." Karliah twisted her body back around and stepped into her room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness around them. With the glaring candlelight pouring from the hallway and into her quarters. She found herself fixing her bed sheets that felt so foreign under her fingertips. After the filth she had downgraded to for so long, it was a mystery how it wasn’t comforting.

Not much was spoken.. Vennessa had nothing to adjust to, which only confirmed Karliah’s suspicions that her older sister had been sleeping here regularly. Just from how easy she hopped on the bed and slipped under the skins like they were her own. Karliah followed after. 

As soon as her head hit the pillow, her damp hair stuck to the back of her neck. Vennessa rolled on her side to throw her arm over her torso, it was sweet, Karliah supposed. The intimate position made her heart skip a beat to where she had to remind herself that she was home. That this wasn't anyone who wanted to harm her. This was her sister, her best friend. 

With a shaky breath, Karliah let her eyes slip closed, and tried to fall asleep to the sound of Vennessa's breathing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned! I'm tired.


	9. Just In Case You Forgot Who You Were Dealing With

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been a while, hello everyone! I've been playing mystic messenger again and it's throwing me off course, making me want to write Mystic Messenger fanfiction. But here is this!
> 
> Enjoy. It's eh.

A hand knocked on the door to the Hearthfire Residence an hour or so after midnight. O Odd how everyone else in Blackwood was fast asleep, but Hogvir was unable to rest. Even if he felt more drowsy than he cared to admit. The man stayed in his hunched position at the dining table, glancing over at the door like he was hoping to be telepathically informed who was on the other side to leave him alone.

 

A few moments passed before he rose from the wooden seat, making his way over to the door and opening it to reveal a tall Imperial man in his early forties. A shaven beard with hair that Hogvir couldn't tell from grey or dirty blond. On the other hand, his name was Jelben Caro the third, Count of Blackwood.

 

The Count stepped in without a word, nodding to the two guards that stood high behind him at both sides of the doorframe. The torches in their grasp held almost dangerously close to their person. They bowed stiffly to the aristocrats and turned on their heels to stand guard on the porch. Count Jelben closed the door behind him, his fur cloak trailing behind him.

 

Somber green eyes bore into his old friend, unlike Hogvir, he seemed pleasantly relaxed. Of course, it had to do with the fantastic news that his goddaughter had returned home in one piece. Upon gazing at his friend, his features softened. "What's with the frown? Your daughter is back and you look as you had yesterday." 

 

The comment seemed to only make Hogvir’s frown intensify, the wrinkles on his forehead more evident. He released an exasperated sigh, making a loathing move to collapse back in the dining chair. Jelben took it as an invitation, pulling out the chair across from his friend, unclipping the sabercat cloak from his robes and folding it nicely on the table before sitting down quietly. "Where is she?" He asked softly.

 

"Sleeping," Hogvir muttered, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes with a grunt. "In fact, both of them are sleeping in Karliah's room. I'm glad they are able to." His tone was envious, the man longed to be able to fall asleep at the moment. To ignore all the harsh comments dancing around his head.

 

"And you cannot," Jelben stated for him, with the shake of his head a chortle slipped from his lips at Hogvir’s groggy look. "Your daughter is back, you aren't angry, so I assume that all is well."

 

"Not as well as I anticipated," Hogvir replied, looking up to stare at the humorous look in the Count’s eyes. Something he remembered seeing all those years ago when they fought against the Aldmeri Dominion together in the Great War. He was always confident in the fact that he was the better soldier. "Something is different, drastically different. . . Not to mention Karliah didn't explain where she was for these three months, it's aggravating." 

 

"I suppose the saying that Nords are impatient is true." The Imperial man let go of a quiet hum as Hogvir shot a glare his way. "That being said I always agreed to that saying, considering you are a walking stereotype- "

 

"You did not walk across town in the middle of the night to denigrate me." Hogvir cut him off with a bitter tone, Jelben laughed, always enjoying the look of insignificance on the general's face. "If you're here to see my daughter once more then you're out of luck. She's-"

 

"I just came to speak of her." The look of amusement slowly faded from the Count’s face, Hogvir folded his hands on the table. "I suppose this is a good place to start. Why are you expecting her to speak to you?"

 

The Hand of the king's lip gnarled softly at his words. "I am her father. I deserve to know the state of her wellbeing."

 

"Then, are you forgetting the scene we saw in the Marketplace three months ago?" It was like Jelben already picked out his argument before even knocking on the door. The Nord's eyes flared with . . . Fear? Jelben wasn't sure, after everything that the two had seen over their lifetime, especially in the Great war twenty or so years ago, not much could disturb them. But the scene they had witnessed that morning in the marketplace was enough to make their stomachs churn. Hogvir bit his tongue at the memory. 

 

Jelben continued, "what about the blood we saw? Mr. Nothil's body? The horrific trail that was left in its wake? You cannot expect her to tell you these types of things the first hour she is back. Think about her in this situation."

 

"Who else is there to think about? She shows up at the gates covered in scrapes and bruises. She has a healing scar on her face and I fear the story behind it. I _want_ to help her, Jelben." Hogvir took a harsh breath, "we could find out what happened, we could track down whoever did this to her and gut them like a fish." The Nord's hands clenched on the surface of the table, appearing like he had been holding his breath for a bit too long. The vein on the side of his temple had begun to pop out, becoming worryingly noticeable. 

 

"We will figure something out." The lack of distress or worry on Jelben’s face was confusing Hogvir. The Imperial was in the dark as was he, yet he seemed eerily calm about the situation at hand. Did he have no interest in getting justice for his goddaughter? His best friend's little girl? Or was he just hiding his alarm tremendously well? "We just need time, enough to think. It hasn’t even been a day! Here you are already talking about cutting heads off."

 

 "I have the right to think that way." His tone was aggressive, with his face still tinged red. 

 

"We will talk about this tomorrow, it's too late to be making plans or accusations. Promise me that you won't stay up and that you will go to bed." The Count stared at his friend with a look of concern. His eyes refusing to move from the Nord's before Hogvir let go of an exasperated sigh.

 

"Alright. . ."

 

* * *

 

The King shut the oak wood door behind him to face the frigid town of Leyawiin, adjusting his saber cat cloak he had just put back on and stepped into the orange glow of the torches in his two guard’s hands. The men standing by turned around to look at him. 

 

"Sire." One of the men greeted, bowing low. "Would you like to head back to the Sunglow Palace to rest?" 

 

"No." He stated confidently, knowing he didn't need to feel guilty for turning down his own men. "You two are on guard duty until dawn. I have a few things to attend to." Without another word, he started down the cobblestone path. 

 

"But Sire-"

 

"Have good night gentlemen."

 

The two men stood there in silence, watching the count saunter towards the Marketplace a few blocks down. Jelben was swallowed by the dark abyss of dusk, but his peaceful expression did not falter. Unlike some of the women and men that lived in these walls, he did not fear the unknown danger. If he could survive the Great War, along with the conflict in the Northern lands of Skyrim, he could survive an attack by a lowly thief or bandit.

 

Not that he expected to be attacked, not tonight at least.

 

His footsteps echoed through the setting, his palace coming into view was possibly the brightest thing in the city. The torches surrounding the citadel were no ordinary cressets, they were magic orbs casted by his court wizard (who was most likely resting in her chambers safe inside the castle). The radiance was gleaming white orbs floating freely inside their lanterns, giving the castle a calming aesthetic for such corrupted township. 

 

Instead of going up the stone steps to the double doors, he rounded the wall that partially enclosed the citadel. Making his way to the far left side of the building where his wilting garden (that was only still green because the court wizard was terrific at her job) waited for him.   

 

This side of the castle was dim, no citizen was allowed over here unless permitted by the court. Jelben folded his hands behind his back, narrowing his eyes to glimpse into even the smallest of shadows, in hopes of seeing a darkened figure. None were to be found as far as he was concerned. Sighing to himself, the king stepped onto the stone pathway to stand in front of a tall bush of Primrose plants. The Imperial man admired them for a couple moments, forced to wait, he became more aware of the beauty around him. He glanced up at the star littered sky. Exhaling sharply through his nose, a thin puff of his breath could be seen as he stared at the night sky before starting back for the front of the castle.

 

"Glad to see that you stayed true to our agreement, Sire."

 

With the tone, the Count stopped in his tracks, turning around to stare at the thief who stood not even a meter away from him. His hands stuffed carelessly into one of his many pockets on the uniform he wore, blending into the night around them so effortlessly that if you did not look close enough he was just a floating head. 

 

Jelben grimaced, "it is what I must do. Not paying you for the work you did would only fuel the conflict between the families." The Imperial's voice was not friendly, anything but inviting. "I said that the night Karliah Hearthfire was returned to her father to meet me here at midnight, did I not?"

 

"You did indeed," The Shadow of Cyrodiil moved to lounge on the stone pillar to the left of him, the Count’s gaze followed the man warily. "I was just expecting this to be a trap that is. With Karliah Hearthfire enveloped back in her family's arms, and you, now throw a wanted man in the dungeons. You would be killing two birds with one stone."

 

"We are not here to chat, you are here only for your payment." The Count spat bitterly, his prominent nose scrunching up. The thief only produced a weak chuckle at the man's words, clearly not menaced by the king's tone, considering the Shadow Of Cyrodiil believed that with the flick of his wrist, his blade could be at the Imperial's throat.

 

"Then where is it?" The playful attitude had deteriorated into a serious frown, Jelben sighed, eyes staying glued to the dangerous man that stood before him while he maneuvered himself back to the colorful wall of Primrose flowers. Hard eyes dancing across the vines and pristine petals before landing on a darkly colored knapsack buried under layers of plants.

 

It felt like it weighed seven stone, with difficulty, Jelben turned around to look at the man a few feet behind him again. Shoving the heavy rucksack into his hands. Shadow doubled over at the weight but didn't seem to be bothered, knowing it was ten thousand septims being hauled into his hands. The thief gathered himself, straightening his back with a satisfied expression, unbuckling the leather clasp in front. 

 

"It's all there." The Count stated as the man stared down at the dozens of copper-colored coin purses inside of the sack, they all appeared to be filled to the brim, the orange cloth expanding around the gold. "Ten thousand septims for your trouble." 

 

Shadow shuffled the heavy sack over his right shoulder, holding back a wide grin at the situation at hand. He didn't express any gratitude, this was no situation to be thanking the Count for. "Has Karliah Hearthfire mentioned her rescue?" He asked out of sheer curiosity, though he doubted the girl would speak a word about what she had witnessed.

 

Jelben shook his head stiffly. "She has not, and you better hope for the sake of your guild that it’s not found out." His words sounded like a warning, one Shadow took very lightly. He had already thought out every possible way this situation could turn out, mostly out of paranoia. 

 

"I saved your goddaughter's life. If it is found out that my guild did a tremendous favor for that damn family, then you will be the one at the short end of the stick." He retorted, the words were spat out like venom. His eyes watched the king's jaw tighten at his locution. The thief waited a beat and gave a half-hearted bow, or as much as he could with the heavy bag on his shoulders. "It was a _pleasure_ , sire.”

 

With great difficulty, the Count of Leyawiin stayed still and watched the criminal step into the shadows. Disappearing at the blink of an eye. Jelben clenched his hands at his side and spun on his heel to head for the front of the Sunglow palace. The thick cloak fastened to his shoulders following after him. 

 

* * *

 

The sun shone through the open curtains, what once was the dim moonlight was now replaced with the golden sun. Karliah forced her eyes shut and shifted slightly. Vennessa's forehead was buried deep into the crevices of her neck. With her free hand, Karliah pulled the wolf pelt over her nose. 

 

Heartfire was officially over and the month of Frostfall was upon them, she could already feel the difference in the air. Hell, she felt it all night whether or not Vennessa was heating up the bed. 

 

While she was unable to sleep with all the unwanted thoughts whirling around her head, Karliah decided to blame it on the cold. In denial that she feared when she woke up, Borik would be there, staring down at her with his cold eyes.

 

The thought had been too much, crippling her mind to an incredible extent that she feared to let her eyes shut for even a second. Though she had been so tired, the terror seeped through her and ate her alive. 

 

Karliah shivered, legs rubbing together in a weak attempt to spark some warmth for her numbing body, bumping her sister's limp knees a couple times. After restless minutes of shifting and her teeth chattering angrily at her lack of heat, Karliah gave up. Gently slipping her sibling’s outstretched hand from her shoulder to move from beneath the thick pelts and rise to her bed. 

 

The motions sent a throbbing headache to her skull, staggering back. The slight thump caused a stiff mumble to escape her sister, not wanting to wake her, Karliah stayed motionless until the Breton rolled over to face the wall. Karliah shook her head.

 

_It's from the lack of sleep, the Shadow of Cyrodiil healed you. There's nothing but bruises and scars on your body now._

 

Divines, Karliah had nearly forgotten about the wanted thief, but the sudden thought made the memories rush back to her suffering brain. Guilt ran through her, enough to make her want to lay right back down in that bed and never get up. Topped with the memories, sorrow, all of it. It was like she stepped into Oblivion and couldn't find her way back to Tamriel.

 

But she had to, rubbing the sleepiness from her eyes, she pathetically slumped towards the wooden door to amble out into the narrow hallway. No sound was heard, oddly enough, just the sounds of chirping birds and the wind rushing through the open windows. No wonder it had been cold. The damn windows were never shut!

 

At a steady pace, the noble shut the wooden door of her bedroom, sighing in relief once she heard the faint click. She walked down the hallway and into the wide living space, Edna - her Imperial Housecarl was lounging peacefully at the dining table with a book in hand. Karliah didn't pay her any mind though as she marched right to the first opened window she saw and slammed the shudders closed. 

 

Edna must not have heard her walk down the hallway, too engrossed by her book to notice the change of scenery. The shutting of the windows definitely pulled her eyes from the pages. "Oh! Milady, I didn't hear you come. . . In." Her words lost their volume as the Breton didn't even bother to notice the housecarl’s statement. Not skipping a beat before moving to the other corner of the room towards their cushioned chair to shut the window next to it. "Milady?"

 

"It's so cold out here, how can you even stand this?" Karliah wrapped her thin arms around her torso before shuddering, referring to the heavy armored cuirass the lady wore. The Imperial frowned, dog-earing the page she left off on and slamming the book shut. Karliah was in a flowing ebony dress that fell to the floor. To Edna it seemed perfect for the weather, to add to the woman's confusion; Karliah was a mix of both Breton and Nord blood. The Nord blood gave her an extra resistance to cold, so hearing that this beautiful weather was too harsh for her was at the least - worrying.

 

She looked at the aristocrat for a moment before letting go of an exasperated sigh. "It's because you don't have enough flesh on your bones. You have no meat to keep you warm." She stood up from the table, another glance was stolen at her. Her cheeks were visibly sunk into her normally beautiful face, the dress that hung around her form was originally her sisters. It was so loose on her body that the Imperial woman feared that the wind would slip on of the straps from her shoulders. "I'll make you some breakfast."

 

"I'm not hungry." It was a complete lie, one that the Housecarl entirely ignored, disappearing behind one of the walls that led to the kitchen. Karliah bit the inside of her cheek and sat down on the chair beside the window so she no longer stood by like a lost child. In her own home for Talos's sake! How could she feel so lost in the walls that belonged to her and her family? The question had no answer, she shuddered bitterly at the cold. It was slowly going away now that a section of the house had been closed off. But the draft was still there. 

 

Why didn't she want to eat? Why couldn't she sleep? When she was still trapped inside that damn stronghold with Borik and his men; one of the many things she desired was a home cooked meal and her own familiar bed. Now she had it back, had her life back in her grasp, but yet nothing felt the same. Everything was altered to a certain degree that made her uncomfortable. A home was where she was protected, where she felt safe. Yet she didn't feel such a thing here.

 

Karliah curled in on herself on the pillowed seat, soon she could hear the sound of vegetables being chopped and a fire being brewed from the kitchen. She tried to focus her mind only on the noise and nothing else, in hope that it would distract her from the turmoil inside her. 

 

It didn't last long though, the small amount of positive energy surrounding her was crushed. Did she really look as thin as Edna said? There was a difference, of course. When she had taken a bath her legs had lost half the width they were before, it made her feel sick to her stomach. Not necessarily her body but more of the cause. How could Borik do that to another person? Sure, she knew her family had made plenty of enemies, but she wasn't expecting such hatred. What had she personally done to anyone to deserve that? 

 

The warm feeling of tears pulled her from her thoughts. She quickly swatted them away before they began to stream down her face. She couldn’t let anyone see her cry, Karliah didn't want to explain, she didn't want to see sympathy take over her sister's expression; nor did she want to see the angered look on her father's face. She didn't want the word to spread around town. It was already enough to know that the citizens knew she was back and were already making up wild accusations on where she had been. She didn't want to shame her family name, surely a slip up such as this would spread through Tamriel like a damn wildfire. Royal woman of Blackwood captured for three months? It was sick but she knew that after this, people of her rank would take one look at her and grimace.

 

After minutes of trapping herself in a spiral of feelings, Karliah finally straightened her back and pulled herself to her feet. Arms wrapped around her torso, she observed her surroundings, god. . . It all looked familiar. But why wouldn't it? She had lived here her whole life and suddenly a few months away swept her entire world off its feet, now it didn't feel like home. 

 

Stepping closer to the dining table, Karliah pulled out the closest seat to sit down. Her back facing the kitchen. It was all simple enough, she was back home with Edna fixing a wonderful breakfast as she patiently waited. But it all felt staged, every second of it. Because after everything she had been put through, it couldn't just be ignored. She couldn't go back to normal when she didn't even know what that normal was.

 

Divines, she was like a bratty child. She wanted her friends and family to know what had happened, but all at the same time she couldn't bear the thought of ever telling them. 

 

The waiting had been difficult. Just when she had known it was too much, Edna set a turquoise colored plate in front of her. On it was a well-sized sweetroll with castle-made butter on top, a thick slab of venison meat, and to top it off was a wedge of cheese. A normal breakfast to last through the day, but now it seemed like too much. "How did you do this in a short span of time?" Karliah asked as Edna set her plate down on the table beside her, the Imperial's plate was nearly identical, but the cheese wedge had been replaced with a head of boiled corn. 

 

"Most of it was leftovers from yesterday’s lunch." She revealed with a wry smile, Karliah didn't smile back. Instead only nodding before picking up her cutlery and cutting into the meat. 

 

"Why are you up so early?" Edna asked. Karliah shyly stuck the fork in her mouth, chewing with a beaten dog type of look to her. The Housecarl tried not to let such a thing bother her, forcing the concern from her face. 

 

The question made a frown settle on her face, pushing the slab of meat into her left cheek. "I didn't sleep well." She muttered. Eyes refusing to linger on her, eyes darting back to her plate without hesitation. "Don't worry about it." She swallowed, hoping that Edna wouldn't suspect anything immoral about her behavior. 

 

Karliah didn't know why she was trying to put on this act. Her family knew she had gone missing. And from the conversation she had dimly overheard last night between Count Jelben and her father; they knew about the scene she had witnessed first hand. They saw her blood, that merchant's body. They saw the wreckage in her wake, if she tried to hide her misery then it would just be suspicious. Because if such damage had been done, why would she smile like nothing was wrong?

 

"Karliah, you know I'd do anything for you. If something is bothering you then-" The woman stopped herself when she noticed the discomfort growing in Karliah’s features. Biting over her lip, Edna cut a chunk from her sweetroll and shoved it in her mouth. Karliah stuck her fork into the wedge of cheese and began twisting it on the plate, watching it begin to crumble into separate pieces. "You only play with your food when you're distressed." 

 

"Maybe I do, but why would you know that?" Karliah finally forced her eyes up to stare at the woman. Edna held a stern look of concentration and somberness.

 

"I have raised you for as long as your memory can stretch. As your housecarl, I have sworn by oath to take care of you and your family. I have to accept the fact that I failed to protect you physically, but that does not mean I will fail you mentally. So Karliah, please tell me what is bothering you." 

 

Karliah bit the inside of her cheek so hard that her teeth made a physical indent in the skin. She stabbed her fork through the cheese wedge hard enough that it sunk through and clanked against the carefully crafted plate. Fighting back the tears thinning her sight, she refused to look at the woman. In fear that the love and concern in her expression would be enough to break the barrier and have the tears rush down her face. "I don't know, I suppose father should have asked you to teach me how to properly wield a sword."

 

The impassive expression the woman had been fighting to keep dropped immediately after the words escaped Karliah's mouth. As a poor distraction, the Breton pulled off a piece of the baked sweetroll and stuck it in her mouth; though her appetite had been soiled as soon as she sat down she knew that she needed to eat. Otherwise, the housecarl would pester her until she did. 

 

Edna set the utensil down beside her plate in an eerily quiet manner, making Karliah regret her words. Perhaps they were necessary, after all, the woman did want an answer so she had gotten one. Not the one she wanted. The Imperial folded her hands on top of the table. Hunger had completely vanished from her mind. 

 

Before any words could be exchanged, the thumping of steps on the stairs was able to be heard from where they sat. It was a relief that Karliah didn't have to hear a sympathetic comment pass through the housecarls lips, but since her father's office was the first door upstairs - she knew that there would be plenty of solicitous looks to pass around. 

 

The sound of his heavy armor clinging and creaking as he made his way down the hallway was possibly loud enough to wake Vennessa from her slumber down the hall. Karliah leaned her elbows against the table as she moved closer to the plate to appear more attentive with the food in front of her. 

 

"Good morning Milord." Edna greeted almost as soon as the older man's face appeared from behind the wall. He was engrossed in reading a ledger held out in front of him but glanced up and nodded at Edna’s words with a wry smile. 

 

Then he noticed the back of his daughter's head, and all attention focused on the note disintegrated. She didn’t see it but could hear him roll up the ledger and placed his hands firmly on her shoulder to plant a loving kiss on top of her head. "Did you sleep well, Karliah?" 

 

"Yes." She lied, her voice hardly above a whisper; the kinder attitude from the older man was very odd. Edna shot her a sharp look at her before rising from the wooden chair, Hogvir set his folded scroll on the edge of the table. He frowned softly, he took a seat right across from Karliah. 

 

Months ago, this would have been considered a normal morning. Nothing special or out of the ordinary. On the other hand, this couldn't be more uncomfortable for her. What did she want then? This is what she once considered peaceful, yet suddenly she comes back home and it all feels foreign. 

 

Karliah hadn't even been back for a complete day, perhaps this was to be expected. Even though she didn't like it. 

 

"Would you like anything to eat, Sire?" Edna asked with a distressed undertone in her words. The Breton knew that it was her doing, but apologizing for it right in front of her father would surely raise suspicion on his part. 

 

"Yes, thank you." Karliah had been picking wordlessly at her foot since her father had come downstairs, her childish way of avoiding conversation. Soon the cheese she had been twirling on her fork crumbled into dozens of pieces, looking like you could spread it on a slice of bread. She looked up for a brief moment to catch her father's sapphire eyes watching her every move. 

 

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked in a quiet tone, the calm and relaxed voice shocked her. If anything she expected a stern statement to stop playing with her food. Divines, it felt like she was talking to Edna again. Looking back down at her plate, she tried to find her words, as if it would be written somewhere on the blasted sweetroll.

 

Karliah decided not to answer, instead, stabbing a piece of the meat to shove it in her mouth. Twisting her head in the opposite direction to avoid his pestering eyes. Karliah knew he was fixated on her scarred cheek, it wouldn’t surprise her to find that he wanted to know the story behind it. Hell, did Hogvir even want to know? He was always a knowledgeable man, surely he could piece it together himself. 

 

Edna set a full plate of food in front of her father, double the amount Karliah had had on hers. He smiled at the housecarl when she sat down beside him. It was like a family breakfast, only there was plenty of unsolved issues that they were blatantly ignoring.

 

Minutes passed by before Vennessa made her way out of Karliah's bedroom and to the dining area, unlike Karliah, she seemed to radiate with light and joyfulness. Why wouldn't she? For all the woman knew, her younger sister was back safe and sound. Her black hair was still braided loosely behind her head from last night, she rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes and made her way over to the closest seat to Karliah.

 

Surviving the next hour was easy thanks to Karliah's masquerade. She forced herself to engage in conversation, it rose suspicion in their housecarl. Karliah managed to choke down the last of her food as Vennessa spoke about what Jelben had told her involving the other provinces; such as Elsweyr, Skyrim, and Daggerfall. It was nice to hear the news she had missed, that the Aldmeri Dominion had struck another settlement in Skyrim that the Emperor managed to persuade the dominion to hold back. Hogvir's lip had curled into a grimace at the words. 

 

"Damn elves," he said bitterly. "They can't leave the homelands at peace." 

 

"Will you be heading to the palace?" Edna asked seconds after, her plate had been cleaned. Karliah sat there feeling sick to her stomach. Hogvir glanced up from the wrinkled parchment he was perusing, shoving a large chunk of meat in his mouth. With a slight shake of his head, he chewed a few more times and swallowing thickly. 

 

"Jelben would like to see Karliah. I would like it if you all accompanied me. " Hogvir hadn't seemed this cheery for as long as her memory could stretch. Like his mind was clear, without thoughts of her dead mother and the weight of his struggling family. It was actually. . . Nice, to watch. Under different circumstances she would have been relieved that her father looked so relaxed and carefree, he surely needed it, but how could he? After the conversation she had overheard with Jelben the night before, how could act so calm?

 

"Sounds good," Vennessa spoke before Karliah could protest, no one questioned her silence. Had they always been so rubbish at observing or was the fake smile on her lips not slipping like she expected? 

 

Though it didn't truly matter, did it? As said before, as far as her family knew, she was back and that was it. They had nothing to worry about.

 

Though her father still vowed to find the person who had done this to her, Borik, to be more specific, little did the man know. . . The Watchers, one of the most powerful thieves guild's of all the provinces in Tamriel; taken after the original gang of purloins spread across Cyrodiil in the 3rd era; the two Guildmasters had been the ones to save her from the band of marauders. Hopefully even killed the entire group of bandits along with her rescue. It was seemingly better to keep the secret inside, knowing the mayhem it would cause with her father. With that Nordic man, his reactions were unpredictable. 

A cold feeling of sorrow seep into her soul while she stared wordlessly down at her empty plate, perhaps it was for the best. To keep all of this pain hidden from the ones she cared for. To keep her family name pure, and have them easily go back to normalcy. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a kudo and a comment, you got this far, didn't you?


	10. Nothing Worth Celebrating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Y'all, this bitch has writer's block so instead of writing IJNOT or TWOTW I'm posting this shit. Enjoy!

"Drinks on me tonight!" 

 

He brightly smiled at the trusted guild members, especially his younger sister Meireka who accidentally kicked the leg of the table in excitement. Silent was still eager to hear about the job both the Guildmaster and Second In Command had been on days ago. Now that the princess was back home and free from the guild's grasp, they were free to celebrate. Silent had to fight the wry smile that stuck to his lips at Shadow’s announcement. 

"You got your cut of the reward, and your first instinct is to spend it all on mead?" Crimson questioned with a frown, one of the man's signature looks. His attitude had been bitter since Karliah Hearthfire was set free. Shadow rolled his eyes, shoving the last piece of meat from his dinner in his mouth, staring back over at his brother.

"This is why you're going to buy your own drinks tonight."

"Oh? Well, that's unfortunate." Crimson muttered, his tone apathetic. "I suppose I can pay for myself." He sighed, pulling out a sunset-colored coin purse that must have been triple the size it was when empty, and tossed it on the table.  

"Huh? No that's mine! Where the fuck did you get that?!" Shadow’s hands flew from the table and searched his person, the look of surprise on his face must have been priceless when his fingers touched nothing but air. Meireka who sat across from the two let a laugh sputter from her lips at the pleased grin on Crimson's face. Shadow snatched it from the table with a snarl. "When did you take it?"

"Just a moment ago."

"You got your own cut from the job!"

"I was just proving my point."

"That you're an asshole?"

Silent shook his head, grinning at their bickering. The two were always trying to trump the other with their skills and abilities as thieves, though Crimson was the better thief (he was the Guildmaster after all), it didn't stop Shadow from competing for the title. They brought the child out of each other, and for Silent it was more than amusing to watch. 

"Can't you. . . Stop them?" Silent turned to Meireka who had begun to slyly take Shadow’s mead and was now sipping the frothy liquid, testing the waters on how much she could drink until her brother noticed. It seemed that the three of them were just out to get each other lately. 

Meireka glanced at him, shrugging her shoulders and setting the alcoholic beverage down, tapping on the table in front of the two. They were now pointlessly name calling each other. It was entertaining to watch but there were more pressing matters to attend to, instead of just calling each other “insufferable know-it-alls” until the sun came up. 

"We want to hear about the job! Shadows take us, beat up each other in the training room after we chat!" Meireka whined, her complaint managed to catch Crimson's attention. Unlike their brother beside him, he was grinning like mad. 

"I already explained it thoroughly." Crimson reminded, his smug expression remained as Shadow tied his coin purse back to his leather belt.

"No, you didn't." Silent reminded, "you just laughed about Shadow's swordsmanship the whole time, before taking my ale." The words made a snicker erupt from Meireka, she covered her mouth to hide her grin. Shadow shot a fiery glare her way.

"What is there to explain anyway?" The Guildmaster asked casually, stabbing his fork into the spiced beef on his luxurious plate (one most likely stolen from the Sunglow palace). "We’re in the middle of a meal, and I don't want to lose my appetite talking about it." Silent felt his stomach churn, a cold chill ran over his spine. Divines know the sight must have been horrid if  _ Crimson _ was sickened by the thought.

"Seven hells, was it really that bad there?" Meireka asked, her hand wrapped tightly around her brother's mead, oddly enough he hadn't noticed. 

"You saw what she looked like when we brought her here." Shadow reminded, his tone quiet. He shoved a cooked piece of carrot in his mouth. "She jumped out a goddamn window stories high. She was willing to risk ending her life to get out of that place. It must have been Oblivion on Nirn for her."

"Oblivion on Nirn for those Milk-drinkers is their steak being slightly undercooked for their taste, it couldn't have been that bad. We jump out windows all the time to escape getting caught on jobs." Crimson's fork was stabbing his food harder and harder every time he went back for more. "Though it is odd that she didn't wait to see who we were before plummeting to her fucking demise." 

"By the Nine-"

Crimson shrugged before setting his fork down with a loud click, the sound made a few thieves at the surrounding tables perk their heads up as the Guildmaster rose from the wooden seat. "You can finish telling the heroic story. I have work to do."

Meireka opened her mouth the speak, but Crimson already began to make his way to the Guildmaster headquarters. Her lips shut with a sigh. "I think the job bothered him more than he'd like to admit."

"He's been in a bitter mood since we brought Karliah Hearthfire to the guild." Shadow acknowledged. It seemed that the talk of the aristocrat had reduced the positive energy in the sanctuary. Silent raked his hair back with a grunt.

"We shouldn't worry, he does this all the time and always comes back to his senses, I bet the next time he comes out of his office he'll be boasting about how he can kick your pretty boy ass." Silent’s words managed to pull a smile from Shadow. "Hell, speaking of pretty boys. Where's Elvin been these past few days?"

Meireka finally perked up at the sound of the Imperial's name, she hummed, "he is a pretty boy. . . Isn't he?"

"I meant that sardonically-"

"Nevermind that." The Meireka brushed off his words with the swat of her hand. "Elvin is in the Imperial City, doing a heist job for the Gray Fox." She smiled, gingerly taking a drink from her brother’s mead. Finally, Shadow noticed, reaching over the table to snatch it from her grasp. Meireka didn't respond, instead folding her hands under her chin. "This is his second job for The Gray Fox, and he's only been here for about a year! He was so nervous before he left, he was looking at me almost like he'd never see me again. It was so prec-"

"Please." Shadow interrupted, "Coo about your  _ dearest  _ lover on your own time. You're gonna make me puke."

Silent snorted, Meireka rolled her eyes and leaned her elbows on the wooden table. "Then turn your head to the left, it’ll be easier for you to clean up if it doesn't get on the table."

"We've gone off topic," Silent spoke, whatever Shadow was planning on saying to his sister died on his lips. His irked expression softened and was replaced with a somber one. 

"Why does it matter? Yes, Crimson, and I saved Karliah Hearthfire. We got paid handsomely for it. Let me just buy us all drinks and forget about it." He untied his coin purse, the one Crimson effortlessly took from him minutes before. He tossed it on the surface. "Celros!" He shouted towards the bar, an irritated Wood elf stood behind it lazily cleaning the counter. "Three Nord Meads! And keep them coming!"

"Yeah yeah, shut up you rat. I'll get to it!"

Meireka hummed awkwardly. The mood between the three had drastically changed in all sorts of directions more than once, but this time it felt sentimental, being so light that she had hardly noticed it. "Just admit it, you're bothered," She said.

"I'm not, I just want to celebrate. The princess is back in town, and tomorrow the King will probably throw an unnecessary celebration in her honor. There will be plenty of gold ripe for the picking and the soldiers will be too drunk off their minds to even guard the place."

The little Nordic shit was burying himself in his work and he wasn’t even acknowledging it, or at least thought he would get away with it. Silent shrugged, it didn't seem equitable to pry into Shadow’s business. Even if they had virtually grown up together there was still a line that was not to be crossed. Shadow was not a child, none of them were. The Desidenius parents were murdered, Meireka and Shadow did their best at burying their parents so deep in the ground and mind that Arkay himself was taken back. It was understandable.

But what was the man trying to drown with mead and hide behind the words of 'It's time to celebrate'? Was it something he had witnessed? Silent could understand that. Karliah was like a little sister to him, but the guild could never find that out. But if the Shadow of Cyrodiil: someone who was always side-by-side with Crimson Criminal and got earfuls of hate about the Hearthfires since he was a boy, saw Karliah Hearthfire in a traumatic state and was troubled over it? Silent couldn't even wrap his head around the concept of what it could do to  _ him _ , let alone what he had seen.

But that was only if the problem with Shadow was Karliah. 

"So that's it?" Meireka asked followed with an exasperated sigh, her brother didn't respond. Instead, the short Bosmer man who goes by Celros set a few ales on the table for them, snatching Shadow’s coin purse from the table as his payment.

"Come by the tavern in the city more often, it's much cheaper there and I'm permitted to be obliging with my customers." The Wood elf muttered. Eyes narrowed at the lot of them. They weren't offended by his words, just like Crimson, he couldn’t help but be a bit condescending even when he was being considerate. 

"Is it cheaper for us since we risk getting ourselves tossed in the citadel dungeon for a fortnight?" Silent joked.

Celros scoffed, "Crimson is the only one who gets such a discount on his drinks like that. He's the one with the most wanted posters in the city."

"Well, we'll see about that!" Shadow huffed.

Ah, now the Second in Command had his spark back.

* * *

It hadn’t taken more than a few days after Karliah Hearthfire's return before colorful banners were being hung on anything with a hook, including ribbons being draped across anything that fabric would cling to. The city of Leyawiin appeared to have gotten its light back. If it had one in the first place, but the city did shine more bright than before.

The marketplace had never been so busy. Meat pies being sold, sweet rolls, taffy string, Honey nut treats, and crostatas of every kind were being bartered. Anyone who was capable of a kitchen skill had scampered to their homes and whipped something up for the upcoming celebration Count Jelben the III announced a few days ago.

Everyone else had their faces lighting up while Karliah quietly sat in the Sunglow palace, lounging on a warm chair with her knees pressed to her chest. She looked down at the city with an impassively, and expression she was sure that her family was eager to smack right off her face.

Karliah was a bit amused, watching men and women run around the town, intent on getting everything ready for their families and making sure that decorations and every goddamn piece of thread was in the place it was meant for. It felt like she was watching a bunch of lanterns with legs running around her hometown, they all seemed so happy and radiant.

Yet this celebration was for her, for Karliah Hearthfire, but she felt nothing but sorrow and remorse.

Fumbling with the long braid of hair hanging over her shoulder, Karliah hadn't been sleeping well the past few days. Even after returning home to her family and friends, sleeping in her own bed, and being comforted by the embrace of her close ones. She could still feel Borik's presence, hear his words in her ear as if he was still with her, taunting her for thinking she could get away so easily. Yet somehow, the sadistic bandit wasn't the only one haunting her dreams every night.

It was the goddamn Watchers.

"Karliah? Do you want to come down for lunch?"

The kind tone pulled Karliah from her thoughts, eyes dragging themselves from the crystal glass and to an Imperial man standing in the doorway. His velvet robe so long it dragged on the floor with a golden belt keeping his shirt tight around his torso. His hair was combed back neatly to where she could see his eyebrows pinching together.

Ah, she had almost forgotten that her personal room in the Sunglow palace was just across from Jelben's office, both being on the third floor.

"Not really." Her tone was hoarse from not being used since she pulled herself away from her enthusiastic sister Vennessa, who was more than grateful to have Karliah back home. "Edna fixed a big breakfast at home today, I'm still full from it." Her eyes drifted back to the glass.

"You're lying. Don't you remember that you ate here this morning?"

Her stomach sank at the realization that she practically walked right into Jelben’s trap. The trap of love, he was going to ask her questions. Ask about how she was feeling and why she was neglecting the ones she loved. She couldn't stand it. It terrified her to speak of him, of Borik.

"S-Sorry. . ." She whispered shamefully, wishing the world would swallow her where she sat. Karliah couldn't bring herself to look over at him when she felt the cushion of the chaise lounge dip as the Count sat next to her knees.

"I am not your father, Karliah. I won't show any rage to the things you tell me. I am not your sister, so I won’t force you to tell me about anything you’re not comfortable with, but I can give you my shoulder, I'll give you my ears, and advice. It is much better than watching you tear yourself apart."

"I don't need to vent to the Count of Blackwood." By all means, he was the last one Karliah would ever think of telling. The Guildmaster and the Second in Command of the Watchers saved her from enslavement to the Aldmeri Dominion. Not only was that fuel to the fire for the raging war of the provinces against the elves, but it was also adding tension between the Thieves Guild and her family. Karliah would take these secrets to her grave if she had to.

"Young lady, my skull is not as thick as you think it is."

"Then why are you still trying to speak to me?"

He sighed, shaking his head at the undertone in her words. "Because I care about you, as I should. I don't have any children so you and Vennessa are the closest things I have to daughters." His fingers drummed against his thigh as he spoke. Karliah knew he was nervous with every word coming from his mouth, his calm facade wasn't as tough as he thought it was.

"If you have a point, then stop stretching the conversation. I'm not going down there." Her statement was a bit too harsh for her once kind nature, Jelben knew that 'down there' meant to sit beside her family and pretend that everything was fine. Karliah was surprisingly skilled when it came to concealing her emotions from her father, but the mask was slipping. Count Jelben could tell.

"My point is you."

"Did dad set you up to this?" She cocked her head to the left to meet his somewhat promising gaze.

"Of course not," he stated, finally stopping his tapping and folded his hands on his lap. "This is all on my own accord." This time, he directed his gaze to the window. The gentle smile on his mouth refusing to waver, no matter the negative energy inside the room.

"Then leave, on your own accord."

"Only after what I came here to say." He replied, for a Count, the man had a lot of tolerance for her discourteous behavior. "You deserve to know that you and Vennessa are very important person to me, sometimes, I find myself stooping very low to help you."

For the first time since he had entered the room, she didn't have a comment already set out. Karliah was expecting the usual, the same greeting and lightweight words as an attempt to loosen her lips and make her talk, but she couldn't. Something inside her told her that this was Borik's intention. Embarrass the lady and she'll never speak of it. Not if she could help it. "What. . . What are you talking about?" Her sour tone was replaced with confusion.

"You know what I’m talking about, but neither of us wants to say it." He was speaking to her in riddles, at least that is what it sounded like to her, answering a question with a question. You want answers, but with Jelben you always leave with more.

She hoped that her look of confusion would be enough for him to know that she wasn't following. Her brain ran through all the knowledge she had about her kidnapping, "Desire to say what?"

Maybe she was just that oblivious.

He waved his hand briefly, shaking off the topic. Rising to his feet and ignoring the evident frown overtaking her face. "I would like it if you came down with me." He said, ignoring the former topic as if his words had never been said.

_ I would appreciate it if you told me what you meant.  _ She wanted to say

"If they want to see me then they’ll come up here." Karliah huffed. Only she had the audacity to speak to the king in such a way. Oddly enough, a twinge of fear snapped in her gut at every bold statement slipping through her lips. The harsh memories of punishments she would get for even speaking on her own accord back at the camp were damaging.

Jelben only smiled at her, he didn't feel the need to add on her comments. There was a painful look in her eyes, one that was not there months before. He could only say that the Shadow of Cyrodiil was a bit too late. He turned on his heel and made his way out of Karliah’s chambers.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me feedback I'm dying

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any typos and for the actual cringe.


End file.
